


The Lady of Shalott

by Kitiara_Raistlin



Series: Memory's Time [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29350623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitiara_Raistlin/pseuds/Kitiara_Raistlin
Summary: In an effort to keep his promise and end his war against magic, Uther invites a delegation of druids to Camelot. But someone doesn’t want peace and Arthur will soon see how bad the future could be without it.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Memory's Time [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2155920
Comments: 45
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: I started posting this years ago, and then just stopped working on it and as I hated having an uncompleted story up, I took it down. However, I decided to revisit it and I want to finish it this time, but also give it a much needed edit. *Much* needed.
> 
> This story only follows canon up through Sins of the Father in season two.
> 
> This story is a sequel to my story Arthur (Pendragon?), while you can certainly read that if you like, I am providing a recap as well.

_**Recap:** The story was set during the second season, sometime after ‘Sins of the Father’. Morgause used magic to remove all memory of Arthur from history. With no one remembering who he was, he sought help from the druids and learned that everything Morgause had told him about his birth and his mother’s death was true._

_Returning to Camelot he spent many months living as a commoner and working as a blacksmith. Believing he might never return to his life as prince he pursued a relationship with Gwen and eventually married her._

_Morgause eventually made her move, exposing Morgana’s magic in front of Uther. Morgause attempted to kill Uther, but Arthur and Merlin stopped her. Killing Morgause broke the spell._

_While Uther was happy to have his son back, Arthur accused him of spreading hatred throughout the kingdom. Uther reconciled with Morgana and promised Merlin he would try to accept magic._

_Arthur assured Gwen his feelings for her were no different now that he was a prince again and she told him she was expecting a baby._

* * *

Uther paced his study. Gaius stood to the side, watching him intently trying to read his face, trying to predict what the man would do. Uther’s steps grew quicker his turns became sharper. Suddenly he turned to Gaius, and erupted with:

“I don’t like it! It’s not safe! I never should have agreed to this.”

“You agreed to it because Arthur asked you.”

“Yes, Arthur asked.” Uther ran a hand across his face. “I hoped somehow agreeing would fix things. But it hasn’t.”

“I’d hoped you’d agreed because it was the right thing to do,” said Gaius, a hint of reproof in his tone.

“Is it the right thing to do? It’s dangerous.”

“I understand your concerns nut they have as much reason to be afraid as we do.”

“We’re inviting druids into the castle. If this is a trick-”

“They are probably just as concerned that we may be trying to trick _them_. Besides, we do have Merlin. He can keep an eye on them.”

“Yes, Merlin.” Uther frowned at Gaius. “Merlin….and his magic. It’s quite remarkable isn’t it? Your assistant having magic all this time.”

“At our age we have learned there are always surprises.”

Uther glowered for a moment and then, in spite of himself, his lips twitched. “You always were one for surprises weren’t? I rather suspect more than I ever knew.”

“I am still and always have been your friend.”

Uther reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I know. And a friend I sorely need now. I’ve all but lost my son.”

“No,” said Gaius, “you haven’t. You’ve gotten him back. There is much to be grateful for there. You two simply…spent some time apart. And now must learn to live together again.”

“Along with his new wife.”

“You have much to be proud of in his choice.”

Uther let out a huff. “She’s a commoner.”

“She is now the princess of Camelot. And,” he added gravely, “you must learn to accept her if you have any hope of restoring your relationship with Arthur.”

“I know. I know.” Uther began to pace again. “And I am trying.”

“Yes, I know you are.”

“But this delegation of druids-”

“Is an important first step. You can’t just accept magic now, and expect all these past years to be forgotten.”

Uther shook his head. “I just don’t know anymore. I have distrusted and hated magic for so long.”

“Maybe it’s time to do away with hate,” said Gaius kindly. “We cannot change the past but we can embrace a new future. That is why the druids are coming. And I hope that is why you have invited them here.”

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

Arthur groaned and rolled over, trying to ignore the sound.

The knock came again.

Arthur groaned again, and he felt Gwen beside him, sitting up in bed and pulling the dressing gown around her shoulders. He knew he wasn’t going to be allowed to ignore it.

“Come in!” she called.

“Go away!” Arthur grunted.

“Oh that’s friendly,” said a voice he instantly recognized.

Arthur rolled over onto his back and lifted his head to see Merlin coming towards the bed..

“Merlin,” he said, “I thought when father hired you as an advisor, it would mean I wouldn’t have to return to the doubtful-pleasure of you waking me up in the morning.”

“Well normally yes,” said Merlin, “Believe me, my heart bleeds for your new man servant. The poor boy does not look up for the job of dealing with you twenty-four seven.”

“It is hardly a twenty-four seven position.”

“Oh trust me. Dealing with you is full time work, and over time and spare time, all rolled into one. However it is nearly ten and the druids should be here soon. And since the whole ‘your father getting along with magic’ is very important for me staying in Camelot with my head attached, I would rather you didn’t oversleep today. And were all ready, spic and span, to great the delegation. So here I am.”

“I’m tired,” sighed Arthur, pushing himself into a sitting position. “Gwen was sick last night and-” Arthur cut himself off abruptly. Gwen rolled her eyes and gave him a look.

He and Gwen had talked about it when the memories of Arthur had been restored a little over two months ago. She hadn’t wanted her pregnancy to be announced yet. She wanted to try to find her place in the castle, and with Uther, before coming forward as the mother of the future heir to the throne. She wanted to be accepted for herself first and as the mother of Uther’s grandchild second. She had argued if the baby was announced immediately she would never really know where she stood with the king.

It had been an uncomfortable time all around. Uther was not entirely happy about Gwen and Arthur, and Gwen could see that, even though the King tried hard to hide it as he attempted to reconcile with his son. Arthur could see it too.

But it had been a complicated time in more ways as well. Arthur’s return to memory had shaken many people. Everything, relationships, beliefs, doubts, fears, it had all been thrown in to the air and landed in disarray, forcing everyone to sort through the mess as they found it.

And then there was magic. Uther had promised to try. He had hired Merlin as an advisor for magic matters, although it was plain to anyone with half a brain that he was still uneasy around someone who’d gotten so close to the throne and hidden magic for so long.

Arthur supposed he himself was struggling too. His life had been so happy and good with Gwen back in the cottage. It had been simple. Having a baby together there would have been beautiful. And now…everything was complicated again. Although, he had to admit, one thing wouldn’t miss was the blacksmithing. He wouldn’t object if he never saw another anvil as long as he lived. Sometimes he daydreamed about banning them from the kingdom.

“You’re not feeling well?” Merlin asked, looking at Gwen with concern.

“Ah, I’m fine now I think. Must have been something I ate.” Gwen smiled at him reassuringly.

Merlin opened his mouth to press the issue, and Arthur decided it was best to distract him. He jumped out of bed.

“Fine I’ll get up!” He grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head.

“Well hurry!

“I’ll be down soon..”

Merlin left and Arthur glanced towards Gwen.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, getting out of bed as well. “I almost think we should tell Merlin. He has clearly proven he _can_ keep a secret.”

Arthur chuckled and coming over, took her in his arms. “True. But if my father catches him keeping one more, I’ll not answer for the consequences.” He kissed her. “How _are_ you feeling this morning?”

“Better. I’ll be fine. It’s all natural. Don’t worry about me.”

He paused for a moment to run a hand through her hair and kiss her again, then reluctantly, let her go and walking over to a table by the wall, poured some water into a basin and scrubbed his face.

“You’re worried,” commented Gwen after a moment, as she studied his face in the mirror.

He sighed and nodded. “It’s very important that this goes well with the druids. If it doesn’t…”

“Who are you concerned might stop it _from_ going well? Uther or the druids?”

“Both. And if anything happens it won’t be safe for anyone in this castle.”


	2. Chapter 2

A small crowd of courtiers and servants were gathering in the courtyard. Merlin shifted nervously from one foot to another. Technically, yes, he was an official advisor to the king now. He knew Uther was trying to be conciliatory with the gesture, but at the end of the day Merlin had never felt in a more precarious position. He knew plenty of people were suspicious of him. And more than a few were deeply unhappy with the prospect of the return of magic to Camelot.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one such person. Mathias, a long standing advisor to the king, who now was in low conversation with two other courtiers and kept shooting Merlin suspicious glances. Mathias had been the most vocal during the past month, against the proposed meeting with the druids. He’d pushed as hard as he could to dissuade Uther.

Merlin shifted again, and thought how true the saying was: be careful what you wish for. He’d certainly wished on more than one occasion that he didn’t have to hide his powers. That he could reveal himself for who and what he was. Of course he’d never thought it would happen in the time of Uther, but if anyone had told him it was possible he would have leapt at the chance.

But now he was seeing there was another side to it. The problem with not having to hide anymore was that once the truth came out you _couldn’t_ _go back into hiding_. Not if you needed to. If this all went wrong, if men like Mathias had their way and were able to drive Uther back away from his reconciliation attempts…well then. Merlin wouldn’t just be able to just go back to no one knowing the truth.

In some ways, it was so much more dangerous for him now than it had been when he was simply hiding from Uther’s general ban on magic. Hiding might be stressful and it might hurt, but it could also be safe.

He heard footsteps coming down the castle steps and turned to see Arthur coming out into the courtyard. Merlin waved and came over. “We just got word the druids have reached the city gates. They should be here soon.”

“Good.”

“Is Gwen coming?”

“She’ll join us later.”

Merlin frowned. “She is feeling better isn’t she?”

But as he spoke, there was movement at the castle doors, and Uther appeared. His expression was set and determined.

“You’d think from his expression,” said Arthur a little caustically, under his breath to Merlin “Father was about to lead a hopeless charge rather than meeting potential allies for peace talks.”

On the castle gates, heralds suddenly blew their trumpets, there were horse hooves on cobblestones, and six horses trotted neatly into the courtyard.

There were four men and two women in the group. Arthur made a small noise of surprise as he recognized the leader. Merlin’s gaze however was on someone in the back: one of the men riding closely beside a auburn haired lady. Merlin just in time stopped himself for yelling out a greeting, but he did wave enthusiastically which earned him a glare from Mathias.

Lancelot waved back and grinned.

The horses came to a stop, and the group dismounted. The man in front, the oldest of them all, approached Uther and gave a respectful bow.

“Your majesty. Thank you for inviting us to your castle and your city.”

Uther stood for a moment in silence and then held out his hand. “Welcome to Camelot.”

“Thank you.” The man took the offered hand and the two shook. He then turned to Arthur. “It is a pleasure to meet you again, sire. And to see that you were able to sort out the uh, memory problem.”

Uther looked sharply towards Arthur, who hastily explained: “It was Iseldir who explained to me about the memory spell. He helped me a great deal in understanding what was happening.”

“I see,” said Uther. His jaw worked a moment. “Well it seems I am in your debt for looking after my son while I could not.”

Iseldir raised a hand in protest. “I simply answered questions as I could. I wish I might have helped the prince more. But allow me to introduce you to the rest of the delegation.”

In the back, Merlin had been watching Lancelot. He had alighted from his horse, and then assisted the auburn head woman to dismount. As he set her down on the ground, she had stayed a moment, standing in his arms and smiling up at him. She then whispered something that made him grin again. It was one brief flicker, a hint of a private moment between the two, and then he had let her go. But Merlin had seen it, and he grinned himself. He was so definitely going to badger Lancelot with questions later.

Lancelot fell behind the druids as they approached Iseldir and Uther, and introductions were made.

“Allow me to present Druidess Sybil and Elaine the Lady of Shalott.” Sybil was a little, dark haired woman with thick streaks of grey in among the black. Her arms with thick with bangles, which clinked whenever she moved. Elaine, it turned out, was Lancelot’s companion. She gave a graceful courtesy. There was something about her that caught Merlin’s attention outside of her interaction with Lancelot. There was a dignity and grace about her, a sense of leadership and nobility. The others of the party, with the exception of Lancelot in his armor, were dressed in simple robes and tunics. Elaine wore an elegant traveling habit of rich velvet that matched anything Morgana had in her wardrobe.

The final introductions were made: Druids Relveer and Ernald. Ernald beamed when he was introduced, and gave a rather flowery speech about his delight at being here. But Relveer barely tilted his head more than a centimeter in acknowledgement of the king. He looked to be about Uther’s age, his hair grey, his face lined and heavily tanned. And his expression was certainly as forbidding as Uther’s often was.

Merlin took a deep sigh. This was going to be an interesting week of negotiations.

“Lancelot!” Arthur had caught sight of the man.

Lancelot grinned.

“Ah, of course,” said Iseldir, with a chuckle. “You already know Lancelot. Since he has friends in Camelot,” and here he smiled at Merlin, “I thought it would be wise to bring him.”

Uther cleared his throat. “Welcome.” It did not sound entirely sincere, but Merlin could at least tell he was trying. “Welcome all of you. Several of you seem acquainted with my son already.” He _definitely_ didn’t sound best pleased about that. “But allow me to present my ward, the Lady Morgana.”

“Welcome, all of you,” said Morgana. “I can’t tell you enough how happy I am that you’re here.” There was no mistaking the genuine warmth in her voice.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” said Elaine stepping forward, and holding out a hand that Morgana instantly took. “In coming to Camelot, meeting you has been the one thing I have looked forward to the most.”

Uther frowned, but meeting Iseldir’s gaze unwaveringly he continued in a clear and steady voice: “I know there is much work to be done. There is a long road before peace can be achieved and before you will accept that I am sincere in seeking reconciliation with magic and your people. But I hope this day will mark the beginning of that peace. I thank you for coming. I know what bravery it took. And I swear on my life and honor you are safe here.”


	3. Chapter 3

The guests were shown to the chambers that had been set aside for them, and left to change out of their riding clothes before reconvening for lunch before the talks would commence.

Lancelot set his saddlebags down, looked around his room, and gave a low whistle. It was, all things considered, bizarre where the world took you. The first time he’d ridden into Camelot, he’d wanted desperately to become a knight, and now here he was, in the castle with the druids, acting as an unofficial bodyguard, and staying in one of the official guest chambers of the castle. Life was certainly peculiar. You started out thinking you knew what you wanted out of it, and then sometimes you ended up with something even better.

As he stepped out into the hall, he saw that something better coming out of her room. Elaine smiled.

“Lancelot. I hope you don’t mind being back here?”

“I have nothing but good memories of Camelot. I understand you might be nervous of course, but I do trust their good intent.”

“Your judgment means a great deal to me.”

She glanced around and then leaning forward kissed him. For just a moment he wrapped his arm her waist and kissed her back, taking in the scent of her: pine and snow. And then he let go and stepped back as another door opened and Sybil came out into the hall. He escorted the two women down to the great hall.

* * *

The hall was filled with courtiers. Servants were bustling in and out, carrying dishes and trays, setting them upon the table. It had been intended originally to be a light lunch, thought Arthur wryly, but it seemed his father had gone a little overboard in an attempt to appear welcoming.

Merlin sidled up to him and gave a low whistle. “Will there be any food left in the castle for dinner tonight?”

Arthur gave a snort. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

There was a stir in the room as the druids entered. The talk dropped to more of a whisper and became more intense. It left Arthur feeling uneasy. Iseldir moved towards Uther and Elaine left Lancelot’s side to speak with Morgana. Gaius and Mathias both approached the remaining druids and lead them into the room and to conversation. Lancelot meanwhile crossed over to Merlin and Arthur, grinning.

“It’s good to see you two again,” he said.

“You too,” said Arthur. “I was surprised to see you still with the druids.”

Lancelot shrugged. “They have been very welcoming. Even after memories of you returned and we all remembered who had truly rescued Mordred. And then of course…well…” His gaze flickered to Elaine.

Merlin winked at Arthur and said, his tone complete innocence, “So, tell us about Elaine.”

Lancelot dragged his gaze back and looked at Arthur and Merlin a bit sheepishly. He shrugged noncommittally but Merlin wasn’t going to be put off that easily.

“You were saying?”

“All right, all right. I met her a few months ago. She comes from the north, an unofficial leader of a small area called Shalott. Up in the mountains. She’s apparently very well-known among the druids. Most of her own people are druids. Since I have met her I’ve seen nothing but kindness and goodness in her.” He coughed and looked a little embarrassed. Then, with his own twinkle of mischief, he turned to Arthur. “And what about you? I’ve heard a number of rumors you’re married. Of course the rumors that have been going about since you regained your place have been many and very far-fetched. If they’re all to be believed: you died and were resurrected, you are a powerful sorcerer, you’re married and/or tragically widowed, and (oddest of all) the true Arthur is dead and you’re his evil twin.”

“I thought he’d been looking shifty,” said Merlin.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “No to the twin, death, and sorcerer. But I am married.”

“Really? And when did that happen?”

“Several months back.”

“And she woke up one day to discover she was a princess? That must have been quite a shock. And who is the lucky lady?”

“Well she should be here soon…ah! There she is!”

Gwen had entered the room at last, looking much recovered. She glanced around the room and spotting Arthur crossed over to him. Halfway there she saw Lancelot and a beam of pleasure came to her face.

“Lancelot! What are you doing here?” She reached out a hand to her old friend.

“The Lady Guinevere! Or as I take it, it is now _Princess_ Guinevere!” Lancelot exclaimed in surprise, smiling at her and bowing deeply.

“Oh don’t be silly and bow. You don’t bow to an old friend. It’s so lovely to see you. But what _are_ you doing here?”

“He came with the druids,” said Arthur. He had felt some obscure twinge of emotion at the sight of how happy the two were to see each other. He mentally gave himself a shake. Whatever distant suspicions he had felt the last time the two had met, a great deal had changed since then. For one he and Gwen were married. And if there was one thing he could trust in his life: it was Gwen.

“You’re with the druids now?” she asked.

“Yes. I have been for a while.”

“We actually met when I went to the druids for help with-”

There was a crash. A dish had slipped from the edge of the table. Shards of pottery went skidding across the floor and soup began to seep across the tiles.

Servants rushed over, and people’s attention was momentarily arrested, but Arthur noticed an expression on Merlin’s face. He couldn’t quite place what it was. It looked…strained. Arthur looked back at the table.

How had the dish fallen? No one had been close to that corner. A servant couldn’t possible have left it balancing on the edge, could they? He looked back towards Merlin. Merlin caught his eye and shook his head sharply, then quickly turned to Gwen and saying hastily: “Are you feeling better now?”

“Oh, uh yes.”

“Have you been unwell?” asked Lancelot, concerned.

Gwen smiled and shook her head, instinctively winding her arm through Arthur’s. “I’m fine, really.”

As conversation returned to normal in the room, Lancelot looked around and shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m here under these circumstances.” He looked at Merlin. “You’re probably having some difficulty with it too. If there’s one rumor that’s been running through the kingdom like wildfire it’s you. Arthur’s former man servant, now openly a mage and Uther’s adviser. Tell me does this one,” playfully he gestured towards Arthur, “know exactly how many times you’ve saved him and Camelot? Or told him who really killed that griffin yet?”

Merlin coughed.

“What?” asked Arthur, looking between the two of them. “What about the griffin?”

“Please,” Uther’s called out, before either man could answer. “The meal is ready. Let us take your seats.”

Following Merlin to the table, Arthur noticed the man subtly grab something off a tray from a passing waiter. It was a napkin soaked in the spilled soup.

He frowned. Merlin was up to something.


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen was seated by the fire in their bedroom, book in hand, when Arthur game in at nearly ten o’clock. He collapsed onto the bed.

“I ‘m too tried to actually get ready for sleepy,” he groaned.

She laughed. “So the talks went well then did they?”

“I don’t know whose more frustrating to deal with. Relveer who refuses to trust a single word out of anyone’s mouth but a druid’s, or Mathias, who keeps trying to slip bans or restrictions into every conversation. Not,” he amended, “that most of the others are making it particularly easy. The druids want a great deal more than Uther’s prepared to give right now.” He raised his head to look at her. “Do you think we could revisit the whole idea of just going away to some village and being peasants again? An anvil is starting to not look too bad.”

Gwen laughed again, and crossing the room came over to sit on the bed beside him. “You say that now but remember a month ago, you were talking about banning them from the city.”

He grinned. “That was a nice daydream. Maybe I could propose it in the peace talks.” He took her hand in one of his. “How was your day?”

“I caught up with Lancelot and then just…read. Arthur-” She cut herself off.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. Well it’s something but we can talk about it later.”

He sat up. “Gwen if there’s something wrong.”

“No! Of course not. It can wait. Trust me.” She kissed him and got up, moving over to the basin to wash her face and get ready for bed.

The truth was…she felt useless. A few official appearances and that was, it seemed all that was expected of her. But she was capable of more than that. In fact she was used to more than that. She had worked her entire life in one way or another, even if it was just taking care of the cottage when she was little and making sure there was dinner on the table when he returned from the forge. She had to do _more_.

But right now, with Arthur exhausted and things already strained in the castle was perhaps not the time. Or maybe, she thought, it wasn’t an issue to take up with Arthur at all. It was Uther she had to show what she was capable of.

* * *

Gaius and Merlin entered his chambers and Gaius shut the door.

“Well for a first day that wasn’t too mad, all things considered,” said Gaius.

“Really? I thought it went pretty abysmally.”

“These are only your first negotiations. People are still unsure of each other. Once things settle down a bit, I’m confident some progress can be made. Well I’m off for bed. It’s an early start in the morning-”

“Actually...there’s something I need to show you.” Merlin pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Gaius.

It was a stained cloth, stiff from what stained it having dried. Gaius frowned and sniffed it. “Er…is this pea soup?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you showing me pea soup?”

“That’s the pea soup that fell off the table at lunch.”

Gaius looked at Merlin questioningly.

Merlin took a deep breath and plunged on: “I was the one that knocked it off the table. With magic.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I- I can’t be sure. But I thought I _saw_ something out of the corner of my eye, go _into_ the soup. It looked like…magic. I’m not sure,” he added hastily, “I could be wrong. But in the moment I didn’t know what else to do but break it.”

Gaius looked down at the cloth. “We’d better test this at once.”

* * *

It was an hour later. Candles and a fire beat away the long shadows of night inside Gaius’ chambers, as the man bent over his work table, Merlin standing at his side looking troubled. Both men had forgotten their exhaustion.

“It’s confirmed,” sighed Gaius at last, straightening. On the table in front of him the cloth lay, glowing a faint yellow. “It was poisoned. Magically.”

“Why though? I mean if it was magic it had to be the druids.”

“Or Morgana.”

“She wouldn’t have a reason too. It wouldn’t make sense. It’s as much in her interests as it is in mine that these talks go well.”

Gaius tapped his fingers on the table and frowned. “But why would the druids do it.”

“Maybe trying to kill Uther?” suggested Merlin.

“Everyone at that table, other than the druids, are important figures in Camelot. Morgana, Arthur, Guinevere, even you yourself now, could have been targets. But poisoning the soup, it would be completely unpredictable who would eat from that bowl. Furthermore, unless every druid there was in on it, a druid could just have easily eaten the soup. And I know Iseldir. He is a good man and would never be involved in that.

“Also,” continued Gaius. “This poison would quickly have been identified as magical. Whoever did it was sloppy.”

“Maybe it was someone who didn’t care about the fall out as long as they did damage?”

“In which case we’re dealing with someone very dangerous and very desperate. Merlin, you must keep a close eye on everything and everyone during this next week. If for one moment Uther suspects any of the druids of anything underhanded...”

“I know,” Merlin agreed. “I think I should tell Arthur.”

“You’re sure that’s wise?”

“A year ago I would have said no. But he’s a changed man. It’s important to him that peace with magic happens. I can trust him with this. And maybe Lancelot too? He can keep an eye on the druids and tell me what he knows about them. Might be able to help us figure out who’s involved.”

“Lancelot may be hard to persuade. They are his friends,” Gaius reminded him.

“He’s also an honorable man and will believe what I have to tell him about the poison. He’s fair.”

Gaius sighed. “We should sleep on it.”

Merlin thought quickly for a moment and then headed for the door, saying overly his shoulder, “There’s someone I have to see first.”

* * *

Merlin raised the torch and watched as the flames cast shadows and light across the wide open cavern. He heard the breathing before his eyes adjusted enough to see the movement, and in another second the dragon’s head was feet away from him, looking down.

“If it’s not the young warlock. It has been a very long time since I have seen you,” said the dragon, its tone unreadable. “I believe you promised to free me once, over a year ago now.”

“Yes, well,” Merlin coughed. “I sort of…forgot about that.”

“You forgot about a great many things,” admonished the dragon. “All of which I could have reminded you of if you had but come to me.”

“With Arthur out of everyone’s head, I didn’t have any memory of ever having talked to you-” Merlin cut off as the implication of the dragon’s words hit home. “Wait. You mean…the spell didn’t affect you? You remembered Arthur?”

“Of course I did,” the dragon sneered. “I _am_ a dragon. You need more far more powerful magic then that witch possessed to affect my kind.”

“But-…why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you call me? You’ve done it before.”

The dragon gave what was decidedly a smirk. “I admit, I was having too much fun. It was quite amusing. Uther’s pride and joy, the son he sacrificed all to create, working as a blacksmith.” He gave a deep rumbling chuckle. “It was truly priceless.”

“Uther almost executed Arthur while you enjoying the ‘joke’,” said Merlin, angrily.

“Yes, the future of Albion was nearly sacrificed for poetic justice. What can I say? Even I can be petty sometimes.”

“Right,” said Merlin, setting his jaw. “Look what about what’s going on now?”

“Now?” The dragon crossed its front legs and rested its head down on top of them.

“Yes. The talks with the druids.”

The dragon tilted its head, almost in a shrug. “Now young warlock things are not so simple. Dark times are on the horizon. Shadows threaten Camelot. But worse, shadows threaten everything you and Arthur are meant to achieve. Beware young warlock and take care. Or Albion will never see the light of day.”


	5. Chapter 5

There was a knock on the door and Arthur groaned. He kept his eyes shut, hoping whoever it was would just go away.

The knock game again. Gwen sleepily prodded him in the side.

“All right. All right! I’m coming!” He dragged himself out of bed and glanced towards the window. He frowned. The sun was only just starting to rise. Whoever it was had better have a darn good reason. He opened the door and rolled his eyes. “Merlin. Of course it would be you.”

“Sorry. It’s important.”

“It’s barely dawn.”

“I know.”

Arthur sighed. “Fine. Just wait while I get dressed.” He grabbed a shirt off a chair. Gwen yawned and looked up from her pillow. She’d had another bout of nausea last night and still looked a little queasy.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. I just got to go help Merlin deal with something. It’s fine. Go back to sleep.” He pulled the shirt over his head, bucked his belt, and met Merlin back out in the hall. “This had better be _very_ important,” he repeated.

“This way.” Merlin lead him down several hallways towards an emptier area of the castle and then into an old storage room. Lancelot was already there, waiting.

“What’s he doing here?” asked Arthur.

“I asked him here. And,” added Merlin, “he complained a lot less about it when I woke him up.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “All right. What’s all this about Merlin?”

“It’s…about poison.” Quickly, he explained about the soup. By the time he had done talking, Arthur was wide awake.

“You’re sure the poison was magical?” asked Lancelot.

“Absolutely. Gaius’s test confirmed that beyond question.”

“But the druids wouldn’t do that.”

“The only other two people with magic in the castle are Morgana and me. And neither of us would have a reason to do it either.”

“What if there’s someone else at the castle who has magic? Someone you don’t know about?” asked Lancelot.

“How come I haven’t run into them before now? And besides, these peace talks would still be in their best interests.”

Lancelot began to pace. “It’s in everyone’s. Why would any of the druids try this?”

“Revenge?” asked Arthur quietly. “Hate spreads like a disease. And there has been a lot of hate for a very long time.”

Merlin nodded. “Uther wants to move on from the past. Maybe someone else doesn’t want to let him. How well do you know all the druids here?”

Lancelot sighed. “Iseldir and Elaine I know quite well. The others, to be fair, not quite as much. They each represent a large group of druids. They’re come to Iseldir’s camp a few times, but I haven’t spoken to them much. They’re all leaders…I suppose, setting my personal feelings as a friend to the druids aside… I couldn’t vouch for them. But…Merlin you don’t know what it’s like. I know you’ve had to be careful here in Camelot, keeping your secret right under the nose of the king, but the feelings in those camps, the dread. They’re not hiding, they’re hunted. It’s different. There’s a terror they live with every day. To risk the potential of ending that, once and for all, to be _free_ again, I can’t imagine any of them doing it. Not for revenge.”

“Someone’s risked it,” said Arthur. “What are we going to do?”

“You know we can’t tell Uther,” said Merlin, glancing towards Arthur, who nodded his agreement. “Not until we know exactly what’s happening. He’d just give up on the talks. But between the three of us we should be able to keep an eye on everyone. The poison was close. We can’t it happen again.”

“What about Guinevere?” asked Lancelot. “She could help.”

A flash of memory of Gwen sick and tired from the night before flashed across Arthur’s mind. “No,” he said firmly. “She has enough going on without adding worry.”

* * *

It was well and truly morning now. Arthur hadn’t come back and Gwen, more fully awake now, was wondering why not. What had Merlin wanted?

She dressed and brushed her hair. They’d offered her a maid servant to wait on her, but she hadn’t been able to picture herself being waited on as she once waited on Morgana.

There was a knock on the door. She turned towards the sound. “Arthur is that- oh, your Majesty.”

Uther glanced around the room. “Where’s Arthur?”

She hesitated. “He’s with Merlin somewhere. I’m not sure exactly where.

“Oh…” Uther frowned and then nodded. An awkward silence filled the room as the two stood there looking at each other. Gwen raised her head silently, refusing to appear uncertain before Uther.

“Your Majesty, if there is any assistance I can provide during the next week…”

“I’d appreciate you sending Arthur to the great hall on time. We due to start in half an hour.”

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She was pretty sure you didn’t roll your eyes at a king, even when he was your father in law. “I think Merlin will make sure he does,” said Gwen.

Uther nodded, gave a small jerk of his head to say good bye, and left.

“Well that went well,” she muttered. She sunk down onto a chair and leaned her forehead against the palm of her hand. A month and things hadn’t gotten any better with Uther, and she doubted she’d be able to hide her pregnancy much longer. He saw her only as an unfortunate side effect of the year he lost his son. He didn’t blame her. But he could not accept her either.

* * *

“So,” said Merlin, “It seems we have a plan… of sorts.”

“Yes.” Lancelot nodded. “I keep a special eye on the druids while Arthur watches the lords and Uther.”

“I’ll try and keep them safe.”

“Or look for any underhanded actions on their part,” said Lancelot.

Arthur frowned. “I highly doubt my _father_ is using magic to get out of these peace talks.”

“It’s easier to believe the druids are?”

“Hey!” jumped Merlin. “Let’s not argue, all right? We’re all on the same side here.”

The two looked at him and then Lancelot sighed. “You’re right, I’m sorry Arthur. I just…these are my friends. I’ve been through a lot with the druids.”

“I understand that. We all just…have to keep an open mind right now. In every way.”

“You’re right.”

Merlin coughed. “Well now that that’s settled: I’ll keep an eye out for any magic being used. Between the three of us we should hopefully be able to stop anything from happening.”

“And we’ll meet again this evening,” said Arthur, “We’ll need to keep a watch out at night as well.”

“Right.”

Arthur turned towards the door of the chamber and started towards it. A few feet away a sound reached his ears. Frowning, he ran the rest of the distance to the door and pulled it open. Looking down the empty hallway, he frowned.

“What is it?” asked Lancelot, coming up beside him.

“I thought I heard someone… but I don’t see anything.” He swore. “Look, we have to go. The talks will be about to start.”

* * *

The heat in the room felt oppressive and tensions were running high. Relveer was thumping his fist on the table angrily and all but shouting at Mathias. “You cannot begin to place our actions on the same level as yours!”

“Camelot has been attacked by magic on many occasions!”

“Relveer, perhaps-,” attempted Iseldir, but the man ignored him.

“The actions of a handful of magic users, pushed beyond endurance by the _oppression_ inflicted by Camelot cannot be held against an entire group of people who have as a whole always striven for nothing but to live in peace and be left alone!”

“Camelot had every right to protect herself against forces both dangerous and unpredictable!”

“Please, this is getting us nowhere,” interrupted Gaius. “The past should be left where it is. It is the future we should be arguing about.”

“But how can we ever trust Camelot?” demanded Relveer. “The original purge against magic was unprovoked and brutal. Many innocents died during that time, woman and children. How can we ever truly trust it will not happen again?”

“Unprovoked! Magic has always sown discord and-” Mathias began, but Uther raised his hand, cutting him off.

“Only time can prove good intentions,” said Uther, speaking for the first time since the arguing had started. “I understand the reluctance of everyone. But only time can prove good faith. Camelot asks only to be allowed that time.”

“Uther has no reason to lie,” said Elaine. “He would have acted last night when we arrived, had his intentions been ill. There would be no need for a charade of peace talks. In fact,” she added, a hint of laughter in her dark eyes. “It probably would have spared him the headache, you two are giving everyone.”

“Oh, because he decided not to kill us last night is why we should trust him today?” snapped Relveer. “Such comforting words.”

“I for one,” broke in Iseldir. “Would like to know what Emrys thinks.” There was a long pause as all the druids turned to Merlin and everyone else looked confused.

“What?” Merlin blinked, “Me?”

“Yes,” nodded Iseldir. “You. Our people know how important a part you play in these times. You have been a friend to our kind but also a friend to Camelot. So I ask you; do you believe there can be peace between Uther’s Camelot and magic?”

Merlin shifted in his seat and glanced towards Gaius. The man nodded at him encouragingly.

Trying to ignore Uther’s and Arthur’s questioning looks, and focusing his mind on the dragon’s warnings, Merlin began, choosing his words carefully. “I think there can. I believe we could find peace but I think it will be hard. And I think we all have to want it and work for it. Because if we fail now, we won’t have a second chance.” Looking carefully at each druid in turn, he added: “And if it does fail, you won’t be able to simply blame Uther. We will all be responsible.”

There was a heavy silence after these words. Iseldir frowned at the last part and looked questioningly towards Merlin. Druid Ernald shifted uncomfortably and Sybil’s bangles jingled merrily as she shifted in her seat.

“Perhaps,” said Uther, pushing back his chair and rising to his feet, “we should take a break.”

As the group broke up, Merlin felt a vice like grip around on his arm and found him himself being pulled out of the room.

He was alone, out in an empty hallway, with Uther. The king stared down at him intently as if trying to read inside his mind.

“You have some explaining to do,” snapped Uther. “How do the druids know you? And what did Iseldir mean about the part you have to play in these times?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Explain it to me,” he hissed.

“They think I am….well, it’s…they think I’m Emrys. It’s some prophecy they believe in about the coming of a powerful warlock. It’s just…a belief.” he gestured vaguely.

“And how powerful are you exactly Merlin?” demanded Uther. “Since I’ve found out about you, you have been vague at best. Now I demand an answer.”

Merlin coughed. “Well let’s put it this way. Every magical threat Camelot has come under in the past few years. I stopped them.”

Uther nodded. “And should it come down to it, whose side are you on? Ours? Or magic’s?”

“Arthur’s,” said Merlin without hesitation. “And that’s the best I can offer you.”

Whether it was good enough or not, Merlin didn’t know, for Uther simply nodded and with a whish of his cloak he returned to the meeting hall.


	6. Chapter 6

The moon shone over Camelot. Guards leaned against the wall and settled in for the night time watch as the occupants prepared for sleep. Arthur lay in bed, listening to Gwen’s breathing, waiting as it fell into an even pattern. He smiled a little to himself, thinking about how angry she was going to be when she found out he’d kept this from her. And in ordinary circumstances, he never would. She had proven herself too many times to doubt she could handle herself in a fight. But with the fairly constant morning sickness and the stress of trying to find her footing in the castle and with Uther, he could not shake the need to protect her from this.

No one knew yet how dangerous the situation was just yet. Keep Gwen out of it, and maybe keep her from becoming a target.

Once he was sure she had fallen asleep, Arthur slipped out of bed, dressed quietly, and picked his sword up from where he left it on the table. Softly, he crept over to the door and, opening it a crack, slipped through and shut it behind him again. He looped the sword sheath through his belt and hurried off towards the north hallway.

Lancelot, Merlin, and he, had gathered after dinner and made their plans for the evening. Arthur would stand guard near the royal chambers and Lancelot near the druids, as each would have an easier time explaining their presence in those locations should they be discovered. Merlin move throughout the castle, keeping an eye and ear out for anything and anyone that should not be there.

Arthur ducked behind a pillar to avoid a patrol and then moved towards a hallway he had picked out earlier. It was close to most of the royal rooms but there was a convenient alcove which should keep him out of sight from the guards.

He got comfortable and waited. Hours dragged by slowly. Occasionally he would hear the steady, even footsteps of the patrolling guards accompanied by the muted clanks of their armor. Once, Merlin came by to check on him and pass on a report that so far, all was quiet throughout the rest of the castle.

The hours ticked by. He thought of Guinevere and hoped she was sleeping peacefully. The night air started to get to him; his fingers growing slightly stiff from the cold. Listening for the sound of any coming guards, Arthur rose to his feet and stretched, trying to shake off both the chilliness and his tiredness. He was going to be miserable at the talks tomorrow, he knew.

He rubbed his neck and then shook his head, fighting back a yawn. He was just sitting back down again when he heard it: _footsteps._

They were moving quickly but quietly as if the person was trying to be stealthy. It was definitely not the sounds of a guard.

Arthur stepped out of the alcove and listened. Determining the direction the sounds were coming from, he hurried after them. When he reached the end of the hallway he listened again. He still heard them; they were nearer now, down the end of the next hall. He followed. The hallway he was now in went down until it hit a wall and then turned left, where it ended at Morgana’s room. The only exit.

 _Morgana._ Quickly he sped up.

Arthur could still hear the footsteps, they had turned the corner. He quickly reached the turn and took it, expecting to see someone. But the hallway was empty. For a brief moment he hesitated, doubting his own hearing, and then he saw something slipping out into the hallway from Morgana’s room. It looked like…mist or smoke.

He ran forward and pulled open the door.

It was almost smoke. But not quite. It had the consistency of it but was white and silvery and had a small inner glimmer. The room was full of it. Arthur could barely make out Morgana. She was collapsed on the floor at the side of her bed as if she had tried to escape.

 _“Morgana!”_ He yelled, but she remained motionless.

He rushed into the room and made his way towards her. The smoky substance was surprisingly difficult to walk through. It was heavy and thick. It felt as if he were trying to walk through water, slowing his limbs and dragging at his clothes. He reached her side, but he could already feel that something was wrong. His head was heavy, his vision blurry, his breathing was labored and short. He grabbed Morgana’s arms and started to pull her towards the door but he only made it about a foot before he fell to his knees.

He could barely breathe now. His heart was hammering in his chest and he couldn’t force his lungs to take a full breath. On his knees, one hand still holding Morgana’s arm, he tried to crawl towards the door, dragging her along, but it was so far away. His vision began to tunnel.

Whatever was in the air seemed to be getting thicker. His knees gave way, and he fell to the floor. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing at all any more, his short gasps seemed to be unable to take in any air. He pulled Morgana forward another inch by inch, trying to make in the direction of the door, or at least where he thought it was. He couldn’t see it anymore. And then he stilled, unable to force his limbs to move another inch. He tried to make out Morgana’s face, as he felt himself lose consciousness. He fumbled for her pulse-

He was just on the verge of total darkness when he heard, as if from a long way off, someone shouting words. He couldn’t understand them, they sounded foreign and his head felt too heavy to figure them out or even to wonder who had spoken them. He looked for Morgana again. Could he see her a little clearer now? Was the darkness of his vision receding just a little?

He took a gasping choke of air.

Suddenly there were hands around Morgana and she was being dragged away. Half a minute later, and Arthur felt arms around him as he was dragged across the floor. And then he was out in the hallway and he was sucking in air in large gulps. Merlin was kneeling beside him and Morgana was stirring nearby.

“What…happened…?” Arthur asked, between gulps.

“Magic,” said Merlin grimly, “That spell would have killed you both if I hadn’t heard footsteps heading this way.”

“Footsteps?” Arthur frowned.

Both Arthur and Merlin looked up. People were running towards them, and from the sound of them, they were guards.

“Oh no,” said Merlin, rising to his feet. “Uther can’t know about this. Not that it was magic…” He hurried into the bedroom, the white smoke was gone now. He looked around urgently, and then grabbed for Morgana’s candle stick. With a few magic words flared up and then he threw it on top of the bed. It hit the pillow and the cloth began to burn. “ _Althestlack!_ ” He whispered and the flames shot up into huge billows. By the time the guards had reached the room, the entire bed was a light, smoke pouring out.

Merlin waited until the guards had fully taken in the situation, before raising his hand, and muttering a few more words to put out the fire.

The leader of the guards frowned towards Morgana and Arthur. Both were sitting up now, still gulping in lungfuls of air and looking the worst for wear. “What’s happened?” he asked.

“The Lady Morgana’s candle started a fire,” said Merlin. “Arthur pulled her out in time but they both inhaled a lot of smoke.”

The guard looked down at Morgana and Arthur doubtfully, over at the tattered remains of the bed, and then back at the pair again. Morgana was shaking and coughing violently. A wisp of white smoke escaped from her. The guard then looked down at the sword at Arthur’s waist.

Then looking back up at Merlin, his eyes narrowed: “The King will be informed in the morning.”


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur hurried down the hallway after Uther, Gaius not far behind him. “Father, wait! It was an accident!”

“I don’t believe it,” snapped Uther over his shoulder, not checking his stride.

“Morgana is fine. The fire was no one’s fault-”

“Then tell me,” said Uther, stopping abruptly and turning on his son. “How is it you were able to pull her from a fire that almost completely engulfed her bed but left not a mark on her? The guards told me about the state both you and she were in when they found you. How was there enough smoke already to nearly incapacitate you both, but the fire, which lit the same bed she was lying in, didn’t hurt her? You three are lying to me!”

“I doubt Arthur would lie about something like that,” said Gaius. Arthur chose not to meet his eyes.

“Morgana was attacked last night!”

“No!”

“I say yes! And I say it was magic! The druids arrive and then a day later my ward is attacked!”

“She simply forgot to put out her candle before sleep and it fell onto the bed! That is all!”

“No! Something unnatural occurred.”

Arthur switched tactics. “What if, for the sake of argument, she was? We don’t know who is responsible. I swear there was a fire. And I believe the fire. But even if it had been caused by magic, we can’t just dive into blaming it on the druids. Because we don’t know who the intended victim would be: Morgana your ward…or Morgana the woman with magic. There are other people in this castle who aren’t happy at the prospect of making peace with magic. So even if there had been an attack: we don’t know that magic is involved and we don’t know what the motive would be.”

Gaius glanced at him, a flicker of respect in his expression. “Arthur is right, your majesty. We invited these people here in good faith. To accuse them without evidence would be a betrayal of that and set up Camelot for grave rebuke from its neighbors and allies.”

Uther let out a grunt of frustration and started walking again.

“I beg of you,” said Arthur, “Show some restraint!”

They reached the dining hall and entered.

The table was laid for breakfast but no one was seated. Everyone in the room was standing around, looking tense and uneasy. The druids were alone in one area, clumped together and whispering in low voices. Word had clearly spread of last night and Arthur could tell his father wasn’t the only one not buying Merlin’s and his story of events.

Uther stopped near Iseldir and looked at him coldly. “Well?”

Iseldir sighed resignedly and shook his head. “I give you my word, if there any foul play last night, we were not involved. I am committed to making this peace work and I beg you not to throw this opportunity away just because of one incident which was likely an accident.”

“An incident? My ward could have died last night!”

“And it’s automatically our fault,” snapped Relveer. “It seems despite all your pretty words, nothing has really changed. You will still, consistently, blame magic for everything that goes wrong in Camelot!”

“Relveer, please,” said Elaine.

“He is only waiting for an excuse to arrest us all. I vote we leave Camelot at once!”

“No!” Morgana exclaimed, stepping forward hastily. “Please. It was me who had the accident,” she said, turning to Uther. “If anyone has a right to be scared I do, and I’m not. Because I know that no one caused it. You have to believe me.”

Merlin stepped up beside her and addressed the druids. “Please don’t go. This was never going to be easy but it _can_ work.”

“You would both be wise to come with us,” said Relveer. “There will always be a place for you among the druids. My camp would be honored to offer you both a home.”

Arthur tried next. “Look, the king isn’t trying to pick a fight. He’s concerned for Morgana’s safety and that is all. Aren’t you?” He turned to Uther.

Uther remained in unyielding silence.

Relveer snorted. “Behold: Camelot’s offer of peace,” he sneered. “You blame us now at the first chance. And after this? What if something else were to happen. We cannot trust you and Camelot is nothing more than a trap waiting to spring on us.

“That’s not true!” insisted Arthur desperately.

Sybil shifted uneasily and Ernald looked torn.

“This peace is important for everyone,” argued Merlin, “For Camelot and the druids, but also every man, woman and child who wants to see a better future.”

“Please, your majesty,” tried Morgana, “magic was not to blame for the fire last night. You know this. And,” she turned to the druids. “You can’t leave. This is too important. I beg of you. You have my word you will be safe here in Camelot. Don’t go. These negotiations _are_ in good faith.”

“What does the Princess Guinevere say?” Everyone turned to look at the speaker: Elaine.

“What?” Gwen asked, surprised. She exchanged a confused glance with Arthur.

“I know your history,” said Elaine calmly. “You were the blacksmith’s daughter and Uther had your father killed. Do you believe Uther is in good faith? And do you believe he deserves the chance to prove it?”

“Guinevere is very new to court,” interrupted Uther. “I think she would rather be left out of these political matters.”

“No,” said Gwen suddenly, stepping forward. “I want to answer the Lady Elaine’s question…I believe every man deserves a chance to prove himself. My father was denied that chance. Countless people have been denied that chance. The chance to prove themselves good men and women. Denied it because they had magic or trusted the wrong person, or helped someone in need. For too long that has been enough to see them convicted and executed. And what of magic? Those with magic have not been blameless. Provoked, hunted, slaughtered, yes. But magic has also been used to attack Camelot. Innocent people have died in these attacks. Mistakes have been made on both sides. A wrong cannot be met with wrong. Now is the time to give second chances, to allow that we have made mistakes and show that those mistakes are not who we are. Just as my father’s mistake was not who he was. I don’t wish his fate on Uther. And neither would my father. He died because he wanted to create a better future for me. And now we can all create a better future for countless others. Whether I believe Uther acts in good faith or not is unimportant. Because I believe he deserves a chance to prove it.”

As Guinevere finished speaking, Uther looked at her with a mixed expression of surprise and respect.

Elaine nodded. “Then we stay.”

A quite, awkward breakfast was eaten, no one wishing to risk the uneasy truce that had been declared. Afterwards, Arthur found a moment to pull Gwen aside.

“That was amazing,” he said, smiling at her.

She returned his smile for a moment and then it flickered away and her expression turned grave. “Tell me what’s going on Arthur. I heard you leave last night, and you didn’t come back until quite late. Then you happened to be on hand to save Morgana? What’s really going on?”

Arthur looked around. Too many people were at hand. He lowered his voice: “I can’t explain it right now. I promise I will later.” She nodded.

There was a sound of a throat being cleared and they both looked up. Uther had approached them.

“Guinevere.”

“Your Majesty.”

“Thank you,” he said slowly and apparently with some difficulty. “I admit I was not thinking clearly. You saved the situation very… _diplomatically_. I realize the mention of your father must have been difficult. I wanted to thank you for setting aside your personal feelings for an important cause.”

“Everything I said I meant,” said Gwen.

Uther nodded. “Perhaps you have a gift then that many do not; of truly being able to separate the past from the future…I would appreciate it if you would join us in the discussions with the druids.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“They clearly respect you. And they may very well trust you more as you are not Camelot nobility…of course you are now,” he added hastily. “But you are not associated with Camelot’s long-standing position against magic. I think you presence at the negotiations may help.”

“I would be honored your majesty."


	8. Chapter 8

Arthur knew he should be concentrating on the conversation in the room, but his thoughts kept drifting back to last night. Something in his memory was trying to attract his attention, but he wasn’t sure what it was?

As Mathias and Relveer argued, he once more went through the evening in his head…

He’d been waiting for several hours…then game the footsteps…which he followed to Morgana’s room. Only the room was empty when he went in wasn’t it? Was it possible someone was hiding behind the door and he’d been too focused on Morgana to notice? He considered this. It seemed unlikely. And when he considered how long it took him to completely collapse, it must have at least been a couple of minutes before the smoke knocked out Morgana. There was something odd about the timing there.

Then what? Merlin had come and said-…wait a minute. There was something odd there wasn’t there?

He sat up straighter. Yes. Definitely something out of place.

The next hour, he waited through the talks impatiently, unable to contribute much his mind too taken up with it’s most pressing concern. But thank goodness Guinevere was there. She seemed to know exactly what to say and when to say it. The talks were much less argumentative today, despite the rocky start of the day. She was more than capable of defusing a tricky situation and steer the conversation back to safer waters, without even appearing to do so. More than once Uther looked her way with an expression of slowly growing respect.

At last, around one in the afternoon, a break was declared and Arthur pulled both Merlin and Lancelot away into a small alcove. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby.

“I’ve been thinking about last night,” he said, speaking quickly, “Something doesn’t add up. Merlin, you said you heard footsteps and that’s how you came to Morgana’s room when you did?”

“That’s right.”

“What part of the castle were you in when you heard them?”

“Near the armory.”

“I came to Morgana’s room when I did because I also heard footsteps. The armory is quite a distance from either Morgana’s room or where I was. Given how much later you arrived at her room than I did, the footsteps couldn’t have belonged to the same person. Something else doesn’t make sense. I followed those footsteps directly to Morgana’s room. There was no other way they could gave gone, and they definitely went down her hallway and into her. But there was nobody inside _but_ Morgan. So who made the noise? I was _right_ behind whoever it was, they didn’t have time to cast that spell before I got there. It doesn’t add up.”

Merlin mulled over this for a minute. “Could the footsteps we heard have been fake? Made with magic?”

“You can do that?”

“Sure, I’ve done it loads of times,” shrugged Merlin. “Easiest way to get past sentries.”

“I’m going to need to rehaul our guard protocol aren’t I?”

“The question is,” said Merlin, ignoring the comment, “Why would someone attack Morgana…and then make sure we got there in time to save her?”

“How do we know it was the same person?”

“Well if it was someone else they could have just saved her themselves.”

“Unless it someone afraid they’d get in trouble for doing so?” suggested Lancelot.

“Or the purpose of the attack was never to killer her. Only to make it _look_ like someone had tried. They didn’t want her dead, they wanted Uther angry. Going after Morgana isn’t a bad way to do that.”

“But who would want to sabotage these talks?” demanded Arthur. “We’re back to same old question.”

“Uther has made a lot of enemies. There are undoubtedly people willing to sacrifice peace rather than forgive him,” said Lancelot gravely.

There was movement and Merlin looked over Arthur’s shoulder across at the rest of the room. “People are heading back for the meeting room.”

Arthur nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

Taking his seat once more at the meeting table, he tried to force his mind on the present issue. There was time to worry about who was behind the attack last night afterwards. If these talks didn’t go well, it wouldn’t need a saboteur to smash things apart.

But just Uther began to talk, an idea shot into his head like a thunderbolt. What if the purpose of the attack last night had been more than just to anger Uther. Merlin and himself and been distracted, drawing them both away from their posts. Several guards had been distracted as well.

What if it had actually been a diversion?

* * *

Lancelot waited until the others had gone into the meeting and then stepped out into the hall, heading towards his room. He would take a little time to think through everything Arthur had said. Perhaps he could plan a strategy of his own for the afternoon-

“Lancelot!”

He turned. Elaine had followed him.

“Shouldn’t you be at the meeting?”

She smiled at him. It was a mischievous one. “It can wait.” She took his hand and the smile faded a little. “I wanted to speak with you first.”

“What about?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. You seem worried. And have done since shortly after we arrived in Camelot. Is there something wrong Lancelot?”

“No.” Perhaps he said it a little too quickly. She looked disbelieving.

“You know you can trust me.”

He took her other hand. “ _Of course_ I know that. Elaine I-, well” he cleared his throat, embarrassed. Now wasn’t the time.”

“I love you too.”

He blinked, startled and then with a laugh, pulled her to him and kissed her. When they were a part again, she reached up and hand a hand through his hair.

“When this is all over,” she said, “Perhaps you’d come home to Shalott with me? See it. It’s the most beautiful place in the world. And I know you would love it and the people as I do. I’d love to share it with you.”

“I’d be honored.”

“Good.” She kissed him again, lightly this time and then pulled away. “I’d better get to the meeting…before Relveer tears everything apart.”

He laughed. It was a shaky laugh. His world had tilted into something bright and beautiful and right now it was hard to think anything else truly mattered. But he let her go and returned to his chambers. But for the rest of the afternoon found it difficult to think of much else other than Elaine.


	9. Chapter 9

Morgana leaned back against her pillows. Her room still reeked of smoke, so she had been moved to a new one temporarily. She could hear the slight rustle of movement on the other side of the door that spoke of the heavy guard presence Uther had insisted on. He was scared. She could understand that.

She’d woken last night to her own choking breath as she gasped for air. The room had been filled with the milky smoke, and confusion and panic had gripped her.

Morgana shivered. Whatever she had told Uther, there was no denying, magic had been used last night. Why? Why would any magic user attack her? She was on their side! Couldn’t they see that? Or, as Uther’s ward, was she as equally alienated from magic as she was from Camelot?

She pulled the blanket up higher, and closed her eyes, trying to get some sleep.

It didn’t come easily. She tossed and turned, each sound in the castle that caught her ear making her pause and listen into the stillness of the night, straining her ears from some sound of threat or potential attack.

But she’d barely slept the night before and today had been a long and stressful one, so at last, even with the tension, she was able to slip off…and into dreams. There was even less rest there.

Flashes burst across her dreams, flashes which even asleep, terrified her.

A dragon’s jaw opened wide, red flames shooting out, stone melting beneath the intense heat.

Men marching across plains. Lightning shooting across the walls of Camelot, homes catching alight.

Merlin screaming. Blood dripping to the floor. She had to stop it. The thought was so crystal clear in her head: she had to stop it. But she couldn’t. And she’d never felt more pure hatred in all her life.

 _Arthur! Arthur where are you?_ The question kept ripping through her entire body.

An orb: a silver blue with fine delicate ruins engraved on all sides. And suddenly it was splintering through the air, shards cascading everywhere.

Now she saw herself, running through the corridors, looking, looking…what was she looking for? A knight approached, a bloody sword raised against her. She felt a surge of fury.

The castle towers shattering.

Lancelot…blood pouring from a chest wound.

Ruins and smoldering wreckage.

Herself again, looking older, tired, and bitter. A young man was standing beside her.

There didn’t seem to be an order to the images, as they flashed one after another, furious and intense. And then it all seemed to judder to a halt, and freeze on one image that was crystal clear and so intensely bright that even in her sleep she felt a need to hold up a hand and block the light:

Two people were standing. One she recognized at once as Druid Relveer, but the other was shrouded in a cloak. Relveer was holding his hand and white, milky smoke swirled around it, obeying his command.

The image broke. The flashes returned. More burning, intense fire.

A flash of light, two people hurtling towards _something_ she couldn’t quite sense _-_

-and Morgana woke up with a jolt, shaking violently and a scream at the tip of her tongue which she choked back only just in time.

* * *

“Here,” Gaius handed Merlin a pack. “Some food and a little hot tea to keep you warm in a, say we say, special bottle. It will stay warm for the night.”

Merlin grinned. “Thanks.”

Gaius sighed. “I wish there was another way. If you three keep staying up all night guarding the castle, you’re going to wear yourselves so thin by the end of these talks that should there actually be an attack none of you will be in a fit state to stop it.”

“What else can we do?” asked Merlin. “Someone went after Morgana last night. If they try something again tonight I’ve got to be there.”

“If Arthur’s theory is correct, whoever it was _lured_ you to Morgana’s room on purpose. If so that means whoever it was knew you all were on the alert and would be in the castle last night, awake. It’s more of a game of cat and mouse now than guard duty. You could even be playing directly into someone’s hands.”

“So by going up to bed and to sleep I’d be thwarting them?” asked Merlin, grinning, “Sounds good to me. There haven’t been enough threats to Camelot that could be solved by me just getting a good night’s sleep.”

Gaius rolled his eyes and then placed a hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “I simply mean: be careful.”

There was a banging on the front door and both jumped.

“Who could that be at this time of night?” Gaius hurried over to the door and unbolted it. “Morgana!” he exclaimed, surprised. “What’s wrong?”

“There hasn’t been another attack has there?” asked Merlin, alarmed.

She had stepped into the chambers now, and pushed back the hood of her cloak. She was still shaking a little, and it was impossible to miss the agitation in her expression.

“What is wrong my dear?” asked Gaius.

“I need to know,” she said, turning to him. “I need to know the truth once and fall. My dreams…what are they Gaius? The truth? The future? A possibility? Raving madness! _I need to know what I’m seeing!_ ”

“Morgana, calm down. Have a seat-”

“No. No more platitudes. No more avoiding. No more lies. I understand why you felt you had to hide it from me once. When my knowing what I am would be too dangerous. But now _not knowing_ feels deadly. Not with what I’ve seen tonight.”

“What have you seen?”asked Merlin.

She started pacing. “It’s hard to say exactly. It all went by so fast. War and blood. Death. So much death. And fire. Tell me Gaius and tell me the truth: is what I’ve seen real?”

“…I believe so.”

She drew back a little, and gave a sharp intake of breath. “You never should have lied to me.”

“I was trying to protect you.”

“I don’t feel very safe right now.”

Merlin came closer. “Morgana? Did you see anything that can help us?”

“What?”

“With figuring out what’s going on in the castle?”

“Oh.” She looked at Merlin, and frowned. “Actually…yes. Maybe. I saw…Relveer. It was strange. It somehow didn’t quite look like the rest of the images. Or like the images I’ve seen in the past. I don’t know why. But I saw him casting smoke, the same kind that was in my room last night.”

“Gaius!”

“There was someone else with him, but I don’t know who.”

“Of course it would be Relveer!” said Merlin. “He’s been causing trouble for these talks since they’ve started! And it makes sense then why he’d have made sure you’d be found last night before the spell killed you. He just wanted an excuse to get all the druids to leave. He didn’t actually want to hurt you.”

“We don’t know anything for a fact yet,” said Gaius, calmly. “We have some visions. That is hardly evidence and we are going to need evidence if we want to stop Relveer or anyone else from stopping these talks for good.”

“And we’ll have to figure out who’s working with him.”

Gaius tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “I think it is time to consult Iseldir.”

“Are you sure?”

“I would trust him with my life,” said Gaius gravely. “I know him and his reasons for being here are none other than those of peace. He will listen to us with an open mind and try to help. He will know Relveer and who he is most likely to be working with. And I can’t shake the fear that we are running out of time.”


	10. Chapter 10

Moving quietly through the castle, Merlin lead the way to the small chamber he, Lancelot, and Arthur had chosen to meet in, before splitting up and guarding the castle. Merlin knocked and then opened the door.

“You’re late,” said Arthur, “we were beginning to worry-” He cut off as he saw Morgana follow Merlin into the room. “Er, what is she doing here?”

Morgana crossed her arms and gave him a _look_. It was a look she had given him many times growing up together, usually when he was in trouble. “The real question,” she said, “is why I wasn’t included in this before? I care as much as anyone about these peace talks and I certainly have a lot more at stake than you do.”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“Morgana is also here because…well she saw something.”

“Last night during the attack?” asked Lancelot.

“No. Tonight,” she said, “in my dreams.”

There was a beat. “Excuse me?”

“Gaius thinks Morgana’s dreams are prophetic,” said Merlin, “and she saw something that points to Relveer being responsible for the attack on her. But he wasn’t working alone. Gaius thinks we should talk to Iseldir.”

“Isn’t that a bit risky?” asked Arthur. “I mean we’re pointing the finger of blame at a druid with no evidence except some dreams?”

“Iseldir _will_ believe me,” said Morgana calmly. “I know he will.”

There was another long moments of silence and the Arthur nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

The group made their way out into the hallway and towards the floor where the druids were sleeping. It was a slow journey, as they wanted to avoid being seen and several times had to stop and wait for a patrol to pass, but at last they reached Iseldir’s room. Merlin knocked. Silence. He knocked again. Just as he was about to knock a third time, they heard Iseldir’s voice, surprised and a little sleepy, call out: “Come in.”

They entered. Iseldir was getting out of bed, wrapping a cloak around him for warmth. He blinked. “This is quite the delegation? Is something the matter?”

Morgana stepped forward. “We need to talk to you.”

Lancelot nodded. “I’m afraid Iseldir there is something going on. Something…wrong. Someone _did_ attack Morgana last night. With magic.”

With a heavy, bone-tired sigh, Iseldir took ad seat and shook his head. “I was afraid as much. The story of the fire did not add up.”

“If magic is involved…” said Merlin hesitantly.

“Then you think it is most likely a druid. Quite reasonable.”

“We have reason to believe Relveer may be involved,” said Morgana. “But not alone. What do you know of the other druids?”

“And what about me?” asked Iseldir. “Am I not a suspect?”

“No,” said Merlin. “As Gaius put it, ‘he’d trust you with his life’. And I’d trust Gaius with mine. I _have_ trusted Gaius with mine. So. It’s not you.”

Iseldir smiled. “I must remember to thank him in the morning. Well, as for the other druids. Each of us are leaders of one or more large contingency of druids. Or as close to leaders as druids have. Relveer comes from the east. And I admit I’m not surprised to find him antagonistic to these talks. The eastern druids, along with mine, were the hardest hit by Uther’s purge on magic. Many people died. Ernald is from the south, near the ocean, where there is a very strong connection between the common people and the druids. They looked out for each other, and being so far away from Camelot, they got through the worst of the purge relatively unscathed. Sybil’s group, from the North, is perhaps the smallest group but they are very influentially among magic users. They have a long history, steeped in our traditions. They’re quite old fashioned in a way, but old fashioned means a history of cooperation with non-magic users.

“Elaine…well she comes from very far up North. Technically Shalott falls outside of Uther’s control. It’s high up in the mountains where the snow is only melted a few months out of the year. Uther’s war against magic didn’t really reach as far as Shalott and consequently it is viewed as a refuge. That does mean however that a number of people who lost everything made their way there. Elaine is highly respected as its leader. The rest of us are as close to leaders as our camps have. But Elaine is a true leader. A true ruler.”

“Does any of them have close ties with Relveer?” asked Merlin.

“Not that I know of.”

“But what would any of them have to hope to gain by returning and Camelot and magic to a state of war?” asked Morgana.

Iseldir frowning. “I can’t be certain. And it troubles me.” He hesitated, and then, slowly, uncertainly, continued: “There’s something moving throughout the druids, a movement…”

“What kind of movement?” asked Arthur.

“This peace Uther is offering, not everyone wants it. Partly because there is still a great deal of anger. Some do not believe Uther should be forgiven, some that he cannot be trusted. But there is a third group, a far more dangerous group. They believe it is time for the Pendragon reign to come to an end, and that there is a prophecy of a new ruler that will rise up and lead magic into a new age. An age of magic. In their minds it will be a golden time. However I fear this age would be just as dark. A continued age of persecution. However this time magic will be the persecutor. That is what I believe this group truly wants.”

“You say they believe there’s a prophecy? But they’re wrong, right?” insisted Merlin.

Iseldir shrugged. “It depends how you interrupt the old texts. I believe in a better future.”

“So the people who believe this, they’re what?” asked Arthur. “Looking for a new ruler?”

“Oh they’ve already found him…it’s Emrys.”


	11. Chapter 11

There was a stunned silence throughout the room.

“What? _Me?_ ” Merlin gasped at last, his jaw dropping open.

“Merlin? They want _Merlin_ to lead?” asked Arthur.

“I mean you don’t have to say it like _that_.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Excuse me, did you _want_ to lead?”

“No, of course not, but you don’t have to use that tone: _‘Merlin’_.”

Iseldir interrupted before Arthur could respond: “It’s not exactly Merlin. It is but it isn’t. I’m afraid it’s slightly more complicated than that. They want Emrys.”

“I thought Merlin was Emrys? And why do you have two names anyways?” demanded Arthur, looking at Merlin. “It’s just confusing.”

“Do you know what Emrys means?” asked Iseldir.

“Err…Merlin?”

“It means ‘immortal’. The druids that follow the Cult of Emrys believe that Emrys has always lived and always will live. They believe the power he holds is so great, so old, and so powerful that it can never truly die. That it returns him again and again. Each time death claims him he is simply born again. The cult is complicated and secret. I only know of it through rumors. But many of its followers do tend to be unhappy with Merlin, because they feel he should strike down the Pendragons.”

“I’ve always thought that your problem, Merlin, was that you don’t do enough striking down,” said Arthur dryly.

“But if Merlin is Emrys,” said Morgana, “if it’s the same person, then…well there’s nothing they can do, is there?”

“The cult’s beliefs are very complicated; they see Merlin and Emrys as the same but separate. Essentially they believe Merlin has been corrupted by Camelot and the Pendragons,” said Iseldir, with a heavy sigh. “Almost a diluted Emrys, if you would. They are very fanatical. The cult has been growing since Merlin arrived here and I have feared for some time they might attempt something rash.”

“Rash doesn’t sound good,” said Lancelot. “What sort of rash?”

“I do not know. As I said: I know most of what I do through rumors. I’ve attempted to learn more but they are too aware that I am not sympathetic to their cause. But…there have been rumblings. Dark magic. Of what, I am not sure. But it worries me.”

Merlin glanced towards Morgana. “What about what you saw? Is there something there that could help us?”

Iseldir glanced up at her. “What you saw?”

She shrugged, uncomfortable. “I have…dreams.”

“Dreams?” A gleam of excitement entered his eyes. “You’re a seer?”

“I don’t know. Gaius thinks they’re more than simply dreams.”

“Seers are extremely rare. It is a powerful gift. A terrifying one at times, but one that should be cherished.”

Morgana stared at him and felt….seen. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“And what have _you_ seen?”

“I don’t know exactly. There was war. A great deal of war. And death. Fire. Lancelot…dying.” Lancelot started and stared at her. But Iseldir was listening to her intently, giving her his entire focus, so she continued on. “Merlin was hurt and I was trying to get to get to him. There was a dragon. And I saw an orb. It had runes engraved upon it and it was silver blue. And then I saw Relveer. Only there was something strange about that image: it was so much clearer than everything else.”

“An orb? Silver blue?”

“Yes.”

“Does that description sound familiar?” asked Arthur.

Iseldir raised a hand and stood. “One moment.” He hurried across to his traveling chest and kneeling in front of it, started to root through its contents, moving aside clothes and papers and several books, until he pulled out an old leather-bound volume. He laid it down on the table and began to flick through the pages. “Ah! Here it is.” He turned it round so that the others could see it, and pointed at an elegantly illustrated picture. “Is this the orb you saw?”

Morgana moved closer. She was staring at a small orb that fitted neatly into the palm of a hand. It was a silver blue with intricate engraving all around, engravings so fine that surely it would be impossible for any craftsman without cracking the glass… “It was only a flash on an image but…yes. It looks exactly like it as far as I can tell.”

Arthur frowned at Iseldir’s expression which had turned extremely grave. “What is it? What’s so bad about this orb thing?”

“It is an Orb of Cronus…one the rarest magical artifacts there is.”

“And why do you look like this is very bad news?”

“Time,” said Iseldir simply, “because of time.”

Arthur let out a sound halfway between a sigh and a huff of frustration. “Can you explain that to us laymen?”

“Time magic is one of the most difficult, or most impossible. To go back, to go forward, it’s impossible. Unless you have the Orb of Cronus.”

“So,” said Lancelot, “you think this cult wants to…what? Go to some other time and find a version of Merlin, or rather Emrys, that they like?”

“No, no I think what they want to do is far more concerning. If Morgana’s vision is accurate and they do plan to use an Orb of Cronus, then it is possible they could feel the time is _now_ for Emrys to take control but they doubt Merlin’s commitment.”

“Well at least they got one thing right,” muttered Merlin.

“They believe that Emrys has lived before and will live again. They could hope to replace Merlin with a previous or even a future incarnation of himself. Essentially pull another timeof his soul through time and force it into Merlin’s body, replacing who he is now with who he once was or will be. And there is only one way they could do that.”

“Why is there always at least one way,” sighed Arthur. “Let me guess: it’s with this orb thing?”

“It’s not really a way. It’s impossible. The magic involved and the sacrifice needed.”

“What kind of sacrifice?”

“Another soul must be sacrificed.”

“A soul?” Lancelot frowned.

“Yes. Not a life. Someone doesn’t just die; their very soul is destroyed forever. No afterlife. No hell or heaven. No reincarnation. Whatever your beliefs for after death…it doesn’t happen. Their soul is wiped away. And it must be willingly given. At least…that’s the theory. I suppose no one can really prove it. Since you can’t come back from death and say ‘that soul, nope, definitely wasn’t there’.”

“Who would do something like this though? Potentially sacrifice their soul?” asked Merlin.

“Fanatics. Someone who so completely believes in one path, one future, they live and breathe their cause and only their cause. But even so…you would need _very_ powerful magic. Not anyone could do it.”

“Of the druids here, who could?”

“I don’t. I can vouch for the fact I could, but never would. But we’re talking a level of magic that is not often on display.”

“All right,” said Arthur. “But this orb. You say it’s rare. Could any of them actually _have_ it?”

Iseldir suddenly seemed to relax. “You’re right. And that would be impossible. None of the druids could have brought it into the castle. I took precautions before we arrived. I ensured none of them, including myself, carried anything dangerous. And I know,” he said, with a playful smile at Arthur, “although your father insured it was done in a very subtle and diplomatic way, that all our belongings were searched when we arrived. None of us could have smuggled in something so obviously magical.”

For just one moment Arthur began to relax, and then he remember his earlier suspicions.

“What if they snuck it in afterwards?” he asked. “What if they used a distraction?”

A look of dawning comprehension crossed Lancelot’s face. “Morgana’s attack…”

Iseldir blinked. “You don’t think…”

“That attack was never meant to kill Morgana,” said Arthur, “so you have to wonder why anyone arranged it.”

“If this is true,” said Iseldir, his voice low and grave, “If someone in this castle _does_ have the orb, then we are all in danger, but especially Merlin. I fear greatly for him if this plan is completed. I do not hold the same beliefs as the cult, and my interruption of the prophecies are far different. If they attempt to tear through time to bring to the present something, which as I believe, does not exist in the form they believe it does…I do not know what the results might be. Any magic that effects time must be treated with the upmost caution and care. The fact the cult would even attempt this…shows how truly insane and reckless they are.”


	12. Chapter 12

Morning had crept across Camelot. Through the castle windows, the sounds of movement could be heard down in the courtyard, while inside servants were moving about, preparing the castle for another day.

Arthur and the others had left Iseldir sometime in the early hours and gone to discuss their next course of action.

“If Relveer has the orb we need to find it!” said Arthur.

“How?” asked Merlin. “We can’t just go up and demand it from him. We have no proof.”

“Then we find proof! We search his room and look for the orb.”

“When? How? If we get caught in there it’s just going to cause more trouble with the talks.”

“We have to act now. How much longer can we keep any of this from Uther? Soon he’s going to learn for sure that something is going on, and then the price will be the alliance.”

“We could do it during breakfast?” suggested Morgana. “While everyone is in the great hall eating, someone could slip into his room and search?”

“That could work. Whoever it was would have to move fast,” said Arthur. “I’ll do it.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “No, I’ll do it. I can use magic…it’ll speed things up. Besides, you’d absence would be far more noticeable than mine. You just keep an eye on Relveer and make sure he stays in the great hall until I’m back.”

There’d been some more arguing but at last Arthur had been forced to agree.

By the time everyone was gathering for breakfast, and Merlin had slipped away, Arthur could feel the combined effects of lack of sleep and nerves starting to take effect. He gotten a couple of hours of sleep after they’d agreed on their course of action, but not enough to make up for the past two nights.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching Relveer, trying to see if the man was looking at anyone once too often or avoiding glancing in someone’s direction.

Breakfast was fairly informal, with people coming and going as they finished. Arthur noticed Mathias was in quiet conversation with Uther for much of the time. At least Uther looked half annoyed at whatever the man was saying. Mathias was little better than Relveer when it came to encouraging peace.

Arthur finished his own meal and went over to one of the windows, pulling back and trying to look as unobtrusive as possible as he watched Relveer.

“Arthur?”

He started. “Gwen.”

She was, as always, looking beautiful. But there was also the determined set to her chin that he had come to know and, occasionally, when directed at him, dread. She came closer to him and looking around to make sure no one was in earshot, lowered her voice. “You need to tell me what is going on.”

“Nothing-”

“Do not lie to me.” There was a steely edge to her tone. “You snuck out again last night and you never came back. Arthur something is going on. I think Merlin knows what it is. And I should too. The attack on Morgana, and this morning you keep watching Relveer. Something is clearly going on and I want to help.”

“It’s not-“ He stopped and forced himself to resist the temptation to deny. He couldn’t lie to her. She was far too clever for that. It was time for the truth. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He too glanced around and then lowered his voice still further. “Something is going on. We’ve handling it.”

“I want to help.”

“I know you do. That’s…part of what I love about you so much. But it’s dangerous. And I need you to be safe. You and the baby. If anything were to happen…”

“Arthur, if anything where to happen to this alliance _that_ would be dangerous. For everyone.”

“Nothing is going to happen. We are going to stop it from happening.”

“And I am part of that ‘we’. Arthur…I’m your wife. But I am also the princess of Camelot. I’m new to the job but I know one thing: princesses take care of their people just as much as princes do. Don’t they?”

“I- well. Yes.” He could already see she’d got him cornered. “But-”

“So, either you and I, both get wrapped up in cotton wool and treated like fragile glass, or we _both_ protect this kingdom. Is that understood?”

“Arthur!” Lancelot hurried over. “Relveer!”

“What?” He looked around. The man had left the room. _Merlin!_ He turned to Gwen: “Just keep the other druids from returning to their chambers! Keep Uther distracted! Start the talks, anything, just make sure no one follows us. Come on Lancelot.”

* * *

Merlin dug under the piles of shirts stacked neatly in the last drawer. “Nothing,” he muttered, exasperated. “It’s not here.” He sat back on his heels.

He should get out of here. He’d already been searching too long.

One more spell…maybe something a little stronger. If Relveer had the orb here it was possible he was using magic to mask it. He closed his eyes and with a quick incantation shot out a burst of magic that spread out across the room. Everything shook for just one fraction of a moment and stilled.

And then-

“Impressive spell work, now what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The voice was furious. Merlin leapt to his feet. Relveer was standing in the doorway, his expression black, his hand raised, magic crackling at his finger tips. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Uh…”

“Who sent you here? _Uther_?”

“Uh I was just looking for…you know in case someone was attacking you like Morgana. Checking for any untoward attempts on your life?” Merlin ventured.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“Maybe?”

There was the sound of footsteps running down the hall. Relveer turned sharply as Arthur appeared in the doorway, Lancelot close behind. Merlin’s hand shot up, sending Relveer flying back against the wall. Arthur leapt forward drawing his sword. He grabbed the druid by his collar and held the sword up to his throat.

Arthur’s head whipped round in Merlin’s direction. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did you find it?”

“No.”

Arthur turned back to Relveer. “Where,” said Arthur, his voice low and dangerous, “is the orb?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man said desperately, “Lancelot! Help me!”

“I think,” said Lancelot evenly, “it would be best if you answered Arthur’s questions.”

Relveer stared at Lancelot. “We’ve trusted you! The druids have given you a home.”

“A home that you are threatening,” snapped Arthur. “Who are you working with?”

“I’m not working with anyone! I’m here for peace!”

“Peace? You call trying to poison people and attacking the Lady Morgana working for peace?” demanded Arthur. “There is only one way this kingdom will ever have peace and that is through uniting!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! I haven’t done anything! I didn’t attack Morgana”

“There’s no point in lying. We already know it was you.”

“You’re mad! As mad as your father!”

“Relveer,” said Lancelot, stepping forward, trying to moderate his voice to something more reasonable and friendly than Arthur’s. “I understand that you’re angry after everything your people have been through.”

There was a silence. Relveer’s expression turned unreadable.

“Please Relveer,” pressed Lancelot, “If you’re not behind what’s been going on, then talk to us.”

Again the silence.

“It’s understandable if you don’t trust Camelot and don’t want to forgive Uther. But there has to be some way-”

“I will never forgive Uther!” The words burst out of Relveer like a dam breaking. “How could anyone expect me to? He killed my wife!” Arthur lowered his sword. “You didn’t know that did you? He doesn’t know. And I doubt either one of you care. She is just another nameless victim to the crusade against magic. You just want to sweep it all under the rug and forget what Camelot has done. But you didn’t have to watch the woman you love burn in front of your very eyes and hear her screams as the flames engulfed her! You don’t have to listen to those screams every night in your nightmares! Could you ever forgive him? Could you forgive him if he’d tied the Lady Guinevere to a stake and set her alight?”

Arthur let go of his hold on Relveer and stepped back.

“What about all the other people who will burn if there is no peace?” asked Merlin quietly.

Relveer rubbed his face and sighed. “I know. I know all that. That’s why I agreed to come in the first place. That’s why I’m _trying_. I’m here to save those lives. I can neither forgive nor forget. But I can try to set that aside to build something for others.”

“But if you sabotage the talks those people will die.”

“I haven’t sabotaged anything,” snapped Relveer. “I have pressed harder than the other druids, and am unwilling to trust Uther easily, but that is prudent! That is not sabotaging.”

“What would you call the attack on Morgana, if that’s not sabotage?” Arthur demanded.

“I told you I didn’t attack her. I haven’t used magic once since arriving in Camelot.”

“We know you have,” said Merlin. “We know you’re working with someone else to prevent these talks from being a success and we believe you’re both members of the Cult of Emrys.”

“The Cult of Emrys?” Relveer blinked and then shook his head. “Never! I have been a strong voice against that cult. Any members I have found among my camps I have thrown out. They are dangerous fanatics.”

“We know-”

“I don’t know where you get your information but it’s wrong! I repeat: I have not used magic since coming here!”


	13. Chapter 13

Lancelot was the first to speak: “I believe him.”

Merlin opened his mouth to say something but he was cut off by a hasty knock on the door. Morgana entered. “What is going on?” She took in the scene. “Oh.”

“What are you doing here?” asked Arthur. “I thought you were keeping an eye on Uther.”

“Gwen’s convinced everyone to start the talks early this morning. It was the only way to keep the other druids from coming back here. I offered to bring you all back.”

“The talks,” said Relveer, icily. “You attack me in my own room and now you want to sit down and talk peace? The hypocrisy of Camelot is truly impressive.”

Merlin interrupted: “Morgana. Is there any chance at all that your vision was wrong?”

“Vision?” Relveer started.

Morgana looked between Arthur and Merlin, uncertainly. “I don’t know. I told you what I saw.”

“But you did say,” pointed out Merlin, thoughtfully, “That there was something strange about that particular vision.”

“Yes. It was a little…clearer I suppose, brighter.”

“Could it have somehow been faked? Planted into your dreams? I don’t know how it would work but-”

“You’re a seer?” The anger had completely left Relveer now. He was staring at her, both intrigued, but there was also something else there in his expression that was harder to place.

“I-…think so.”

“It is a rare gift. A burden but also a blessing...” He frowned. “And it was a seer’s vision that led you to suspect me?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” He sighed. “If what you’re saying is true, I can at least somewhat understand your actions. I still maintain my innocence but perhaps we can overlook this ‘incident’.”

“Wait, wait,” said Arthur, “We still have no proof that anything _you’re_ saying is true. You may have made a nice speech but that doesn’t clear you of all suspicion.”

“And we need to find the orb,” put in Merlin.

Arthur tapped his foot impatiently. If Relveer was lying…well they’d tipped him off now. He _knew._ He could easily slip away, take the orb and complete his plan. _They had to find that orb._

“Could you lock Relveer in here with magic, Merlin?” Relveer opened his mouth to argue but Arthur spoke over him: “If what you’re saying is true, if your only goal in coming here is for peace then you will have no objection to us taking a few precautions for a couple of hours. We can’t keep you locked up long without questions being asked by the other druids so you know this is only temporary. But we need a little time. Because if you are lying, you could easily use the opportunity to wreck more havoc than has already been caused.”

“For what? What _orb_?” demanded Relveer.

“Morgana had a vision of the Orb of Cronus.”

_“What?”_

“It’s what I was looking for in your room,” explained Merlin.

“That’s…quite dangerous.” Relveer sighed. “Very well. Between a seer, the cult, and the orb, I suppose I am willing to stay in my room for a few hours. I trust this will be seen the light it deserves, that of an act of good faith.”

“Thank you,” said Morgana coming over and taking his hand. “We do appreciate it.”

* * *

They’d stepped out of the room and with a few magic words Merlin had locked the door and then turned back to the others. “Okay, now we really don’t have much time. He was impressed enough by Morgana’s abilities-”

“Or he’s a good actor,” said Arthur.

“Or that. But we need to back up our claims with evidence soon if we don’t want to have completely destroyed these talks.”

“You all get to the meeting,” said Lancelot, “I’ll search the other rooms and look for the orb. If a druid really has it, they’ll want it close by. Anywhere else in the castle and it would risk being round.”

“Good. Search for the orb,” said Arthur, “and barring that, anything else that might incriminate anyone. And Lancelot: search _all_ of the druids’ rooms.”

They split up.

* * *

“Ah there you are,” said Uther as Arthur, Merlin, and Morgana entered the room and took their seats. “I was just about to send someone after you three.”

“Where is Relveer?” asked Elaine, looking around.

“He’s…feeling a little unwell,” said Arthur. “The venison last night did not agree with him.”

“I don’t blame him,” said Guinevere easily, “I felt a little unwell myself.”

“Should I go up and check on him?” asked Gaius. “I could bring him a tonic.”

“No, I’m sure everything’s fine. He said he’d just sleep a little and join us later. Besides, Lancelot is with him.”

Ernald looked troubled but did not comment. Sybil feel into lowered conversation with Elaine.

* * *

Relveer paced his room. A seer. Morgana was a seer. What had she seen?

Memories of his wife, danced before his eyes. He remembered those nightmares she’d have, tossing and turning in their bed, often waking screaming at the dreams and visions that had plagued her.

She’d seen her own death. No one should have to endure that.

He glared at the door, the memory of her death once more calling to mind his rage. But for Morgana, cursed or blessed (he wasn’t sure which) with the same power as his wife, he could remain in this room for a few hours.

* * *

Lancelot dug through the drawer, shoving aside clothes and books.

This was the last room and he’d be done. He’d found exactly nothing. He’d violated the privacy of his friends, people who had given him a home, and he had nothing to show for it. A sense of guilt was creeping over him. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, but now he wasn’t so sure. Could he really go back to living with the druids at this point, as if nothing had happened? After he’d been so willing to believe the worst of them so quickly?

His fingers brushed a box. He pulled it out and flipped the lid open…and he froze.

A silver blue orb sat cushioned in the box.

His heart sunk.

There was movement behind him. He looked up in the mirror and what he saw in the reflection made him start. He whirled round, reaching for his sword, just as a jet of magic hit him in the chest.

* * *

The room was filled with conversation. People were milling around, some arguing, some talking in lowered voices. Concessions were being discussed, compromises proposed. Uther however was distracted. Something seemed wrong. Something was being kept from him. He didn’t like it. First the attack on Morgana, and now Relveer suddenly ill?

As Mathis passed, Uther reached out a hand and pulled him to a stop. Lowering his voice Uther whispered, “I want you to go check on the druid. There’s something going on.”

Mathis nodded and slipped out of the room unnoticed.

* * *

Mathis hurried along the hallway. He had also wondered at Relveer’s sudden illness. Food poisoning seemed awfully convenient. Relveer had been arguing every step of the way during the talks, had feigned suspicion of every gesture and offer the King made. Surely if Relveer had taken sick from the supper, he would immediately be crying poison through the whole castle.

Prince Arthur had been the one to deliver the message but then…well Arthur hadn’t been the same ever since the spell which had affected people’s memories. He had married that servant girl for one and expected people to treat her like a princess. And it was Arthur who had pushed his father into this attempt at mending bridges with the sorcerers. Arthur who had wanted to invite them here: letting the enemy straight into the heart of Camelot.

But Arthur hadn’t seen the dark times. He didn’t understand what magic was capable of. The prince was… _young._ That was the real problem. He had been raised to lead men, fight enemies and follow in his father’s footsteps. In many ways he was quite capable. Mathis had never seen a finer swordsman or a better leader of soldiers. But at the end of the day he was still a very young man. He had been raised to believe he was already capable of making weighty decisions and to rule, but he wasn’t. And Mathis feared Camelot would pay the price. Wizards, druids and witches could wreak destruction like no other. Arthur was just too young to understand or to know.

Mathis reached the hallway of the druids’ bedrooms and slowed down. Something told him to be cautious. He made his way slowly along the hall towards the chamber given to Relveer. He reached it and knocked.

There was no response.

He knocked again, louder this.

Still no response.

He tried the handle and it wouldn’t budge.

“Revleer?” he called. “Druid Relveer?”

Silence met him.

Mathis began to back away from the door, frowning. Something was wrong here. He couldn’t place it, he couldn’t explain it, but self preservation was suddenly telling him to run.

Everything was too still, too quiet…

He started off quickly, and then broke into a run. He passed one of the druid’s rooms. He didn’t notice that the door was open. He was just past it when a footstep caught his ear and then a sheering pain hit him in the chest. He stumbled and looked down. A sword tip was sticking out. He blinked, and felt another flair of pain as the sword was pulled out. Blood began to soak his clothes. His knees hit the ground, and he collapsed.

Mathias knew, with the knowledge of a man who had fought in many battles and had taken many wounds, that he was dying and it wouldn’t be long. With his last effort he rolled himself over and looked up.

Standing over him, blood dripping from the sword in his hand, was Lancelot. Mathias tried to gasp out some final question but his vision was darkening and in another moment he was gone.

Lancelot stared, unseeingly down at the body, his gaze unfocused. Automatically he slid the sword back into its sheath. And then, unblinkingly he stepped over the body and headed down the hall.


	14. Chapter 14

Taking advantage of a brief moment in the talks that found the two next to each other, Merlin lowered his voice and pulled Arthur aside.

“What do we do if Lancelot doesn’t find anything?”

“I don’t know. We’re going to need more than dreams to prove guilt to everyone’s satisfaction. Because it does need to be _everyone’s_. When we come forward with what we know or suspect, it’s not just my father we’re going to need to convince. It’s the druids as well.”

“We at least have Iseldir on our side.”

“Ah your highness,” said Sybil coming over, “I wonder if you could share some insight into the issue your father and I are currently discussing?”

Reluctantly, Arthur left Merlin’s side.

As the day wore on towards noon, Uther kept looking towards the doorway more and more frequently. It appeared he was expecting something, and the longer it did not occur the more troubled he grew.

The commotion started as hurrying footsteps in the distance and the vague sound of shouting and raised voices. At first not everyone in the room seemed to be aware of it. But both Arthur and Merlin exchanged questioning glances. The footsteps were coming this way now and Uther had heard them. He looked up sharply towards the door, tense. And then a castle guard, together with Sir Leon, entered into the room, both of their expressions grave. Leon crossed quickly towards Uther and, bending down, whispered something in his ear.

Uther’s expression turned to one of complete rage. He stood sharply and turned to Iseldir, his expression black. He opened his mouth to speak, but Arthur jumped in hurriedly, hoping to give him time to consider his words.

“Leon? What’s happened?”

Leon glanced towards Uther, and he too seemed to sense the importance of giving the king some time to compose himself, and he spoke hurriedly,

“Mathis has been found dead. And the Druid Relveer was locked in his chambers, apparently with the use of magic. We had to break the door down. Though at the moment he refuses to say what happened.”

“What?” Iseldir was now also standing to his feet. He half glanced towards Merlin as if seeking an explanation from him.

“Mathis is dead?” Arthur blinked in surprise. _“How?”_

“It looks like he was stabbed.”

“Murdered!” thundered Uther. The whole room seemed to vibrate with it.

Elaine stood. There was a hint of regality in the way she met Uther’s eye and faced him. Her voice was calm and level as she spoke. “No druid would kill your advisor. We are all here to seek peace and reconciliation. I would, however, ask why one of ours has been found a prisoner, locked in his room?”

“Locked in with magic!” hissed Uther icily. “It is clear that it is one of your kind’s doing. Not ours.”

“Our kind?” snapped Ernald.

“I am sure everyone is acting in good faith,” broke in Gwen smoothly. “There is an explanation for these things and we need to get to the bottom of it to discover the truth, not devolve into arguments.”

“Since the druids have arrived here, Morgana has been attacked and now a man who was both an advisor and a friend is dead! You call that good faith?” demanded Uther, turning on her.

Gwen did not blink. “I think we know too little at this point to be accusing anyone. The truth has to be reached.”

“Something is happening,” conceded Isledir. “But that does not mean that what we are trying to accomplish here with these talks is any less-”

“Get out!” Uther snapped.

“What?”

“Father!” Arthur exclaimed. He reached out a hand and laid it on Uther’s arm. Uther looked towards Arthur.

For a moment the two stared at each other. And then Arthur’s hand fell away and Uther took a deep steadying breath. “Go back to your rooms and we shall discuss this in the morning, in the meantime my guards will search the castle and Relveer will be questioned. If we continue this discussion now…”

The sentence was left unsaid but the implication was all too clear.

* * *

Uther was standing on the castle wall as Arthur approached him. Dusk had fallen and the sound drifted up from town of shops closing and the people returning to their homes. Smoke was starting to climb up out of chimneys and down below in the courtyard Arthur could see Gaius crossing the cobblestones towards his chambers.

It all seemed surreal. The people of Camelot just going about their day, as everything cracked and twisted in the castle. Arthur supposed this was the price that came with the crown. You bore the burden so that the people could live in peace. That was the price and the duty.

His father’s hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and he was staring out across the horizon, his expression hard and unreadable.

Arthur opened his mouth, but Uther spoke suddenly.

“I know what you’re going to say. You are going to remind me of my promise to make peace with magic.” He sighed, his expression suddenly one of pure exhaustion. It struck Arthur that he’d never seen his father this tired before. Or this troubled. He wondered briefly who Uther turned to when he was troubled. Arthur could speak to Gwen or Merlin. But Uther? Once he might have confided in Arthur, but the distance between them had grown into an ocean of silence. Uther looked towards his son. His expression twisted. “I pray to every power of good that you never look back on your life and see nothing but regret.”

“Father…”

“Your mother was a beautiful woman.”

Arthur blinked in surprise. He had rarely heard his father speak of her.

Uther looked back off into the distance. “But she was more than beautiful. It was her heart I loved. Magic took her away from me. But I also did it. If I hate magic for the price it had me pay, I must hate myself. Facing the past…shows that clearly. I failed as a husband and now I failed you. I swore I would never lose you like I lost your mother. The price I had paid to have you was too high to allow for anything else.”

“You…won’t.”

“I already have,” said Uther. “We have never been the same since that spell that took your from my memory. And now I don’t see how we ever shall be.”

“Father…maybe we can’t be the same but, we can be something better. You don’t have to hate magic _or_ yourself. Maybe, _maybe_ , a druid we have invited here is angry at what has happened. Maybe they _are_ causing trouble. And I am sorry for Mathias. I know he was your friend for many years. But you can be better than whoever is causing these troubles. You can rise above it and show yourself for the king and man I know you can be. You can forgive.”

“How Arthur? If I cannot forgive myself…how can I forgive magic?” Uther shook his head. “Go.”

“Father-”

“Leave me. _Please._ ”

Arthur turned, and hating himself for not knowing what else to do, walked away.

* * *

There was a knock on the door. Ernald had been sitting in his chair, waiting; his face pale and drawn, his expression troubled. At the sound, he looked up sharply. The door opened and a figure entered.

The visitor nodded towards him. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he said, standing to his feet. “I am prepared.”

“Good.”

“There is only…only one thing.” His hand shook a little. “You will look after my people will you not? Without me to guide them…there will be no natural leader. But they will look up to you and follow if you would lead them.”

The figure nodded. “Of course. This ritual will ensure that all our people will be safe from now on. And I personally will make sure that your people know of your sacrifice for them and how much you cared for them. You name will never be forgotten. And I will look after them. You have my word.”

“Good. Good.” He nodded several times, bit his lip, and then, squaring his shoulders stepped forward. “I am ready.”

“Then it’s time. Uther’s hatred for magic has been stirred again and his suspicions are far reaching. Any attack now will be seen by him as coming from all magic. There will be no compromises. No peace talks. There will be only war, and a war we will win with our true leader to take us into the glorious future. It is time. It is time for the true Emrys to be summoned.”


	15. Chapter 15

Moonlight cast shadows across the room as Arthur belted on his sword.

“Arthur.”

He glanced up at Gwen who was sitting beside the fire, watching him.

“Arthur,” she repeated, this time standing up and coming across the room towards him. “You must tell me what is happening.” She reached out and laid a hand on his arm. “Now.”

He looked towards her and then he let out a long sigh. “I need to go patrol the castle corridors tonight. Something is going on, I don’t know exactly what. But yes, Morgana was attacked with magic. Now Mathias has been killed, and we think someone is trying to perform some sort of dark magic ritual on Merlin.”

 _“Merlin!_ Is he in danger?”

"It looks that way.”

“Do you know who is behind it?”

“We thought it was Relveer but we’re not sure now.”

“Whose we?”

“Uh…myself, Merlin, Lancelot, Morgana…Gaius…”

As he gave each name, his heart sunk as her expression grew a little sharper. “All those people and you didn’t think to talk to me about any of this?”

“Gwen…I just…wanted to keep you safe. You have enough going on-”

“Actually I have a whole lot less going on than I’ve ever had since the day I was born. I suddenly became a princess but until your father invited me into the talks no one seems to have much trusted me with any of the responsibilities that go along with the job. Including _you._ ”

“Gwen. I didn’t mean-”

“I’m pregnant Arthur. Not suffering a debilitating illness. If you were still a blacksmith I’d still be going about my work as Morgana’s maidservant and cooking and cleaning.”

“I’d have helped with those things!”

“Not with the cooking. You’d have poisoned us both.” She gave a small, light laugh and then took his hand. “Arthur, I can help.”

He looked into her eyes and he knew she was right. She _could_ help. But more than that, she needed to help. That was Gwen. Gwen always helped others. To try and stand in the way of that, well, you might as well try to stop the waves. He’d wanted to keep her safe because his heart ached at the mere thought of losing her. But trying to stop her from being who she was? If it was even possible, that would make her lose herself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have told you everything right from the start.”

There was knock on the door and Morgana slipped into the bedroom.

“Arthur.” She was looking scared. “I’m worried. I have a terrible feeling. I feel like something awful is going to happen.”

“What is it?” asked Gwen alarmed.

“I don’t know,” Morgana shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I just know- I don’t think you should leave this room tonight Arthur!”

“What? I have to. If something is happening-”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. I can’t explain it.”

“If what Iseldir fears _is_ actually happening then Merlin will be in grave danger. Someone believes they can bring through time some past version of him and Iseldir doesn’t think it’ll work. Not the way they want it to. So what’s going to happen to Merlin? That sounds like dark magic, and a lot of it, directed right at him. I have got to stop that. Merlin is my friend, but more than that I know now at least a shadow of all that Camelot owes him. I will do whatever is in my power to defend and protect him. I can’t do anything less. I'm sorry Morgana.”

Gwen nodded. “You’re right. What do you what do you want me to do?” He opened his mouth and she cut in: “And don’t tell me to stay put.”

His lips twitched in a half smile. “I wouldn't dream of it. Morgana?”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

He nodded. “Good. It’s always possible we’re wrong about this whole cult and Merlin thing. My father could still very much be the real target. There are plenty of guards in that corner of the castle however. But the druids could still potentially be in danger. I want you two to keep an eye on that area. The guards there will be looking for threats _from_ them, not against them. Be ready to sound the alarm if need be.”

Gwen nodded. “You can count on us.” She kissed him and held him for a fraction longer. “Be safe. I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

Arthur, Merlin, and Lancelot convened in an empty chamber. Lancelot was the last to arrive.

“Did you find anything when you searched the rooms?” Merlin asked him, eagerly.

“…No.” Lancelot shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“Did you hear anything or see anything?” pressed Arthur. “Mathias’s murder must have happened when you were nearby.”

“No,” Lancelot repeated. “I didn’t.” His tone was almost bored. Merlin looked at him questioningly, but he was distracted a moment later by Arthur.

“What about Relveer. Is it possible he could have gotten out of his room and then locked himself in again afterwards?”

“I don’t think so,” said Merlin slowly. “When I checked the smash door the guards left behind. My magic was still on the lock. Then there is also the question of why it looked like Mathias was stabbed. If it was one of the druids wouldn’t they have used magic?”

“Covering their tracks?”

“But if they want to sabotage the talks wouldn’t killing him with magic do a better job?”

“Maybe they don’t want to be executed while they’re at it.” Arthur swore. “We need answers.”

“How are we going to get them?” asked Lancelot blankly.

“I don’t know…” He rubbed his face. “Morgana came to my room tonight. She was scared. There was nothing definite but she somehow…sensed…something was happening tonight.”

“Like…a ritual with the orb?” asked Merlin.

“I don’t know. But _if_ someone snuck in the orb, they must know we’re on to them. They must realize we likely were the ones that locked Relveer or Relveer is guilty and told them? They certainly have to know they’re running out of time, and that Uther is at the breaking point of his tolerance.”

“All right, let’s look at this way. A spell like the one Iseldir thinks they’re going to cast, it’s a big one. Someone couldn’t just do it in their room.”

“They couldn’t?”

“Not without being overheard and stopped. I don’t know a lot about time magic but I know it takes, well, _time_.”

Lancelot was watching him intensely.

“And,” continued Merlin, “And how Iseldir described it, that spell to pull another me through time would be particularly, well dark.”

“It would have to be,” said Arthur wryly. “Multiple Merlins. What a thought.”

Merlin rolled his eyes but ignored him. “My point is: someone casting that spell would need a bit of privacy.”

“Like where?” asked Arthur.

“Well I don’t like to brag, but I’ve done my fair share of sneaking about the castle in my time and I have some ideas. There are some areas a little less guarded. We could start there.”

“All right then. Lead on. We’ll make a sweep.”

* * *

Lancelot and Arthur followed Merlin. They headed first to several empty chambers near the dungeons, and then Merlin led the way towards the hallway which ran past the kitchens, now eerily quiet at night. They checked each room they past and each hallway.

Arthur had to hand it to Merlin: he certainly did seem to know where the less populated areas of the castle. He made a note to himself, after this was over he was going to sit Merlin down and get his help to improve castle security.

They seemed to be working their way down through the castle, lower and lower. Arthur was surprised, following Merlin, how seldom they had to duck out of sight of the guards after a while. He had vague memories of being this far down a few times, when he was playing as a little boy and managed to escape his tutors, but it had been years. He’d forgotten this area even existed.

The group had reached a long windowless corridor, when Merlin suddenly stopped.

“What is it?” asked Arthur.

“I feel something.” Merlin shivered. “I think we might be close.” He was moving more slowly now, as if listening to some sixth sense, as he chose a corridor and started down it.

The hallway was in near darkness, only one or two torches, spread far apart, lit the way.

And then they heard it. A soft murmur of words, words Arthur couldn’t make out. Words which sounded foreign and strange. And just as they had reached his ear, Merlin tripped and fell. He seemed to just barely stifle a cry of alarm. Instead, he held out his palm and whispered a few words. A tongue of flame leapt to his finger tips, spread light across the floor around him.

What he had tripped over, came visible in the gloom.

A body. Merlin reached out, bringing the light closer to the form. He pushed it onto its back….

“Ernald!” he whispered.

“Look at him!” said Arthur horrified. “What happened to him?”

There was something…different about the dead body. He had seen many in his life but this one…this one was different. Of course a corpse seemed lifeless but somehow this one seemed even more so. It looked empty, as if it had never been filled. But of course it had been…it was once a living breathing man…

“Oh,” said Merlin softly, understanding hitting him.

“What?”

“Iseldir said the spell needed a soul. A willing soul. _He_ gave it.”

“To whom?” Arthur glanced down the hallway from where he could still hear the words being mumbled some distance away.

Merlin opened his mouth to say something and then his eyes opened wide in horror. “Look out!” he yelled.

Instinctively Arthur twisted away and felt a whiz of wind as steel missed him by inches. He drew his sword and turned. But all he saw was Lancelot, his own sword drawn. But then Lancelot was coming at him.

Surprised, Arthur almost didn’t block the attack quickly enough.

“Lancelot!” Merlin shouted, “What are you doing?”

Lancelot didn’t respond, he pressed his attack, forcing Arthur back against the wall.

“What? You’re one of them!” yelled Arthur in shock.

“You will not stop it,” said Lancelot, his voice flat and even. His sword met Arthur’s and for a second, their faces inches apart, the two stood, pushing against each other, each trying to force the other to give. Beads of sweat glistened on Lancelot’s forehead and his eyes appeared feverish.

Arthur shoved Lancelot away and then lunged forward. Lancelot had been pushed back towards the body and he stumbled over it, losing his balance. He fell to the ground and lost his sword. He reached out to grab it, but in a split second Arthur was in front, kicking Lancelot’s sword away and holding his own to the man’s throat. The man

“Arthur wait!” yelled Merlin, jumping to his feet and laying a hand on Arthur’s arm. “Look at him. Something’s not right.”

“Of course something’s not right Merlin. The man just tried to kill me!”

“Which Lancelot wouldn’t do!” argued Merlin.

“You don’t know that. He’s been living with the druids and now he’s working with them! He has been working against Camelot since he arrived here, plotting with her enemies!”

“You’re sounded like Uther!” Merlin snapped back.

Arthur fell into a stunned silence.

“But what I meant,” continued Merlin more levelly, “When I said something wasn’t right, was, well look at him. He looks sick, his hand his shaking. The way he’s been acting tonight. It’s not _him._ This, attacking you while your back was turned. That’s not him either. I think he may be under a spell.”

“A spell?”

“Yes.”

“Whose? Ernald is dead.”

“Whoever we can hear down that hallway,” said Merlin, gesturing in the direction of the sound. “And who, I’m sure, knows we’re here. The fact that they’re continuing with the spell probably means they’re near the end and want to reach it before we can stop them. Which is probably why Lancelot attacked. He probably has orders to keep us away at whatever cost.”

_“What’s going on down there?!”_

Arthur and Merlin looked up in alarm at the direction they had come.

“A guard must have heard the commotion,” said Merlin.

Suddenly, Lancelot lunged, a dagger glinting in his hand. It just grazed Merlin’s leg, before Arthur kicked him back, sending Lancelot several feet back along the hallway.

There was the sound of running footsteps.

“Right,” Arthur nodded. “You can handle Lancelot, can’t you?”

“Yes, but what about you?”

“Someone needs to go stop the spell. If what you say is true, we don’t have a lot of time. If Lancelot _is_ enchanted, you have to break it! And quickly! _And_ keep the guards from following me for as long as you can!”

Merlin nodded.

Arthur turned, and bursting into a run, headed down the hallway towards the voice. The words were becoming clearer now. Foreign and ancient, the thrummed through the air. He could _feel_ them, in his bones and in the stone he ran across.

The hallway turned abruptly left, and as Arthur turned the corner the walls opened up into a round room: and in the center of the room, stood Elaine.

She was holding a small, silvery blue orb in her hands, the runes engraved on it shining blindingly bright, but it was a strange unearthly light, and black tendrils seemed to reach out from it, pulling the flames from the torches on the walls, sucking out their light, dragging them into a whirl of blackness that swirled around her. She was speaking low and fast, magic words tumbling out one after another, and with each one the mix of darkness swirled faster round her and the orb.

As Arthur appeared her eyes flew open and locked onto his, her words faltered for one fraction of a moment and then, her hands gripping tighter around the orb, she rushed on.

Arthur leapt forward. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was going to do but he knew he had to stop her: for Camelot, for Merlin, for the future, for his family.

But something wasn’t right. The darkness seemed to have a weight of its own, pushing through it felt like moving through water, slow and sluggish. It should have taken less than seconds to reach Elaine, but each step he took seemed to be slower than the last, while her words seemed to be growing faster and faster, until she seemed moving at a speed beyond comprehension.

He needed to get to her. He needed to stop her. It wasn’t too late; the peace could still be saved if he could just…somehow…stop…

With a yell of effort, he took each step. It was like weights now were dragging him down. He reached out his hand. It was mere inches away from hers. The light and darkness was swirling faster and faster, and he knew instinctively that he was running out of time.

He screamed at the effort and lunged forward, his fingers closing around the orb. And he pulled.

“No!” Elaine yelled. She kept hold of the orb and she was pulling back, but as his fingers had touched it normal movement seemed to have been restored…no, not normal, suddenly he felt faster, quicker. The darkness swirling around him had slowed and it was only him and Elaine locked together and speeding, hurtling as they both pulled on the orb, each trying to take it from the other.

Arthur thought he heard his name being yelled behind him, but it was so slow, so elongated as he sped past, and then he heard a crack, and felt the orb give way and splinter.

And he was thrown back. He felt movement through something he could not explain, some sense he could not his finger on, and then his head connected with the wall with a thud, and he fell to the ground unconscious.


	16. Chapter 16

The room was old. Dust lay thickly on the floor; part of the wall had fallen in, stones littering the ground. Elaine groaned and reached out a hand. Dust floated up, and she coughed. She blinked, trying to place herself, trying to assess. Stumbling a little on her first attempt, she pushed herself to her feet. She blinked, looking around, confused.

She became aware of pain in her hand and, frowning, she glanced down. Shards of the orb were sliced into her palm; blood dripping to the floor. More shards lay on the ground. She pulled out the ones in her hand first and then gathered as many as she could find. She wasn’t sure that it was of any use. But just in case…

Elaine started to move towards the hallway, and then stopped. It had been dark in the room, save for a little light cast through one of the broken walls. But she saw now a figure lying in one corner of room. She moved towards it carefully, and then blinked: Arthur’s unconscious form. She hesitated and considered. She then looked round the room: noticed the grime and cobwebs in the corner. The concern in her expression deepened, and she hurried out of the room.

* * *

It was another hour before Arthur stirred. He let out a grunt of pain. He had a roaring headache, and the prospect of opening his eyes was not appealing. But he forced himself into a sitting position. A wave of nausea washed over him and he held still for a moment, riding it out. Then he reached up, and tenderly felt the back of his head. There was a bruise back there, where he’d hit the wall, but no blood. Good.

He winced and stretched his arms, before getting to his feet and looking round.

Where was he? How had he gotten to this room? What room in the castle, for that matter, was this old and ruined?

Something was wrong.

He frowned. Where was Elaine? Where was Merlin? He turned to look out the doorway. He had thought he had heard Merlin call his name just before the orb had shattered.

Looking round the room again, he realized, broken and smashed as it was, it did appear to be the same room that he _had_ been in with Elaine. But that was impossible. Even if the orb smashing had caused some damage, it would hardly have caused this much dust to accumulate? And why would he have been left here?

Alarm seized him. What if Elaine had succeeded? Could she have actually beaten Merlin? But even that didn’t explain what his eyes were seeing.

He hurried out of the room, ignoring the pain in his head. He needed to find Merlin. He had gone the entire length of the hallway before he realized something more wasn’t right. There was damage all along this wall. Stone blackened, walls bashed in, debris scattered on the ground. Arthur slowed and looked around him. Everything looked strangely…old, covered in a layer of dust, just as it had in the room he’d just left. Could a fight between Merlin and Elaine actually explain all this?

Arthur burst into a run, changing course to make his way towards where Gwen and Morgana had spent the night, near the druids’ rooms. But as he neared the bedchambers the damage grew worse. More debris, more shattered walls, and dark patches that looked suspiciously like dried, very old, blood. He stopped dead when he came on the first body. From the armor he recognized it as a knight of Camelot. But the body was old and decayed.

Magic. It had to be some kind of magic Elaine cast. Some spell to kill that also aged bodies. It had to be. There was no other explanation. He called Gwen’s name as he hurried on, his concern growing into full-fledged panic now. _He had to find Guinevere!_

The number of bodies increased. He recognized armor of castle guards, knights…and then other figures in robes and peasant clothes. What had Elaine done? What had happened here?

He wasn’t surprised when he reached the bedchambers and found them empty. Without even stopping for breathe he ran back the way he’d come and towards his and Gwen’s room. It too was empty. The furniture smashed, dust coating everything here too. But no body. It was small comfort but it was something.

Then something caught his eye. It was broken too, like everything else in the room, but a small cradle was in the corner near the bed. He stared at it. There had certainly been no cradle there before. Why-?

 _“What is going on?”_ he muttered to himself.

Taking deep breaths, trying to stay as calm as possible, he next made his way to the throne room. As he entered it, he came to a dead stop. Bodies littered the floor thickly, entangled and on top of one another. The throne was broken into so many pieces it was hard to tell which bits even had once belonged to it anymore. Three of the four walls were charred, while the fourth was completely gone, bashed inwards, large chunks of it scattered across the floor, some on top of more bodies.

As Arthur looked through the now gaping hole, the view showed Camelot, and his heart sunk. Surely, surely more than Elaine had to have been at work last night to cause what he was now looking at.

It was early dawn, the sun just rising. The castle gate was a heap of stones and beyond that was the blackened skeleton of what once had been Camelot.

* * *

He couldn’t stay in the castle, not with the bodies and destruction, and he needed answers. There’d be no answers in this ruin. Only deafening silence. Confused and dazed, Arthur found his feet automatically carrying him outside. He moved along the cobblestone streets, staring, unable to comprehend, at the ruins around him. Most of the damage seemed to have been caused by fire, but it didn’t look recent. That was confusing. He couldn’t have been out for then a few hours and yet everything around him looked as if it had been destroyed years ago.

There was not a sign of life anywhere, not even the distant noise of birds. From the throne room he had glimpsed the forest beyond Camelot, and it too had been burnt and destroyed for as far as the eye could see.

Bodies could be seen, tangled in the ruins. They too were just as aged as everything else.

Arthur hadn’t thought about where he was going. He’d just walked. But suddenly he found himself outside of Gwen’s old home: their home once upon a time. It was now just a few broken timbers, blackened and decayed. It was in this house he had fallen in love with her. It was in this house they had spent the first months of the marriage…where was Guinevere? Was she alright? Was she safe? Or was she-

No. He couldn’t even form the words in his head. He _wouldn’t_.

He felt his knees give way under him and he sunk to ground, looking at the ruins of their home.

_“Gwen…”_

What had she said to him? _“Be safe. I’ll see you in the morning.”_

What had happened? What was going on? Where was _she?_ Where were Merlin or his father? How could you black out for a few hours and awake to all _this_. What sort of dark magic could destroy and age a city, a castle, and its people, over the course of one night?

He closed his eyes and took in deep breaths, trying to calm his heart which had begun to beat alarmingly fast, trying to focus, trying not to give into the despair that was threatening to overwhelm him. He had to keep his mind clear. He had to think. He had to stay focused. There had to be answers somewhere. There had to be _Gwen_ somewhere.

And then he heard footsteps.

He jumped to his feet, and turned, hoping beyond hope or reason that it would be Gwen coming to find him or Merlin with an explanation and some plan to set everything right.

Arthur almost didn’t recognize the man. He was leaning heavily on a staff and looked so old, so decrepit. But there was the familiar kindness in his expression that softened the features.

“Gaius?” Arthur blinked, almost in disbelief.

The old man squinted at him as if he had trouble seeing. He moved closer, his steps slow and painful. When he was only a few feet away, his expression turned to one of utter shock.

 _“Arthur?_ Arthur, is that really you?”

“Gaius what’s going on? What’s happened here?”

Gaius came right up in front of Arthur and, looking up into his face, held up a hand to feel him, as if he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “Arthur! It _is_ you! I didn’t think you would ever come…Merlin always said so. He has always believed you would come back one day.”


	17. Chapter 17

Nothing made sense. Nothing could explain how the world was reeling around him. Worse however was the fact that Arthur wasn’t sure that he _wanted_ it to make sense. He needed this to be a nightmare he could just wake up from.

“Please, Giaus…” He wasn’t sure what he was pleading for.

A look of deep sympathy crossed Gaius’s face and he clasped Arthur’s arm. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I’m going to have to tell you. This won’t be easy for either one of us. Come, come away from here and I’ll explain everything.” He started leading him away, and Arthur, stunned and dazed, with one final look towards the ruins of his and Gwen’s old home, followed.

Gaius led him out towards the city’s edge. The outer walls of Camelot stood in ruins, mostly piles of stone tumbled down on top of each other. There were more bodies here as well: swords and arrows scattered round as if there’d been a battle here. The pair moved on beyond the city, taking a small footpath for about half a mile, until they reached a small, wooden hut on the side of a stream. Gaius opened the door and led the way inside.

It was a one room house, with a bed in one corner, a fire place, a table and chairs and a cupboard stocked full of herbs and plants. There was a shelf of books and in one corner was a side table with several of Gaius’s instruments. Most of them, however, looked old and rusty.

“Sit,” Gaius instructed. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

Automatically, feeling too shell-shocked to respond, Arthur obeyed. His mind refused to form words, too afraid of what it would think, of what it would start to believe…

As he watched Gaius move around the room he sensed the physician was as reluctant to begin the conversation as he himself was. At last however Gaius had placed a cup of tea on the table and sat down, and both men knew the moment could be put off any no longer.

“What’s happened Gaius?” asked Arthur, weakly. “What happened to me? And what happened to Camelot? Where is everyone?”

“Most of them are dead.”

 _“How?”_ He could feel his world spinning out of control and he was desperate to make sense of it. “I don’t understand how any of this is possible. I blacked out last night, but how could I wake to all of _this_?”

“It wasn’t last night, Arthur.” Gaius sighed; it was a sigh beyond exhaustion or sadness. It was a sigh of soul-wrenching weariness. “When you stopped the spell that night it was already too far along. Too much magic was alive in that room. You stopped the spell from effecting Merlin, but all that power had to go somewhere, and we theorized that it latched onto the two nearest living things: you and Elaine. Neither of you were seen again after that night. Merlin has done much research since, on the magic used. It seemed most likely that the result of you subverting it was you and Elaine were either killed, or, more likely, it pushed you both through time. We hoped it was forward and not back…but we could never be sure. I scoured as many historical texts as I could: but could never find any sign of you. So there was always hope.” For the first time, since finding Arthur in the ruins, he gave a small smile. “Merlin always said you couldn’t have wound up in the past and not made so much of a mess of things that you wouldn’t make a name for yourself.”

Arthur stared. A minute ticked by and then another.

“Arthur, I realize-”

“How long, Gaius? I was pushed forward in time: but for how long? How long have I been gone for?”

Gaius hesitated for one long moment and then he shook his head. “Twenty years.”

 _“Twenty years?”_ Arthur stared, horrified. Twenty years? Twenty years just… gone… in one night.

“I am afraid so. Merlin has studied the Orb of Cronus much since you were lost. He often tried to determine, given the power released, how many years you might have been pushed through…he had many theories and many disappointments. But he always believed you would come back one day in his lifetime. He has always believed he would see you again. I admit I, and many people, had lost faith. But never Merlin.”

Arthur buried his head in his hands, his mind whirring, refusing to accept what Gaius was telling him, but unable to deny the evidence his own eyes had seen. It couldn’t be. He couldn’t be. This had to be some absurd lie. _Please, please_ , he thought desperately, _please let this all be a lie…_

But Camelot and the castle, that hadn’t been a lie. He had felt the dust and seen the destruction.

“What happened?” he asked, looking up abruptly. “What happened to Camelot?”

Gaius sighed. “This will be hard for you to hear.”

Fear gripped his heart. He could barely get the words out: “Is Guinevere-…is she alive?”

“Yes, oh yes, she’s alive,” said Gaius hastily. “And in good health when last I heard.” He looked away. There was something there, Arthur knew instinctively, something Gaius wasn’t saying. But what was it?

“Where is she?”

“I’ll tell you. But I think it will be easier if you hear the whole story.” Gaius took a deep breath. “You must understand that when you went missing, you just vanished. No body, no remains. Nothing. There were a few guards who arrived on the scene quickly enough to have seen some magic being used, but they couldn’t say exactly what had become of you. Your father, when he heard what had happened, and when no one could find you…” A troubled look crossed Gaius face. “The last time I’d seen him like that was at the death of your mother. He was reliving it all over again. I couldn’t reach him. Once again he had lost the person he loved best to magic, magic that he had invited into Camelot. He felt responsible. _Again._ And his reaction was…similar. He blamed the druids and he blamed Merlin.”

“But Merlin was trying to stop Elaine!”

“But there was no evidence of that. And Merlin was at the scene when you vanished. That was enough, in your father’s state. He had him, along with Lancelot and the remaining druids, arrested and thrown into the dungeons. Your father had enough suspicion of the magnitude of Merlin’s power to make sure he was securely bound, and gagged for most of his time there. The number of guards and knights assigned to the dungeons was unprecedented as well. You had vanished, there was no body found, no explanation…Uther wanted answers. But I think his overriding emotion was hope was that he could force them to return you to him. He became convinced Elaine had kidnapped you and that the druids and Merlin were a part of it. He wouldn’t listen to reason. He wouldn’t listen to anyone. He was…mad in a way. He was broken. I have gone over it many times in my memory, wondering if somehow, if I had said or done something differently, I might have helped him. If I couldn’t have made a difference…” Gaius fell silent, staring back through time in his own head.

“What happened?” Arthur pressed. He needed to know the worst of it now. He saw Gaius’s fist clinch and a flash of anger cross his expression.

“He tortured them. Asking them questions to things they didn’t have the answers to; where you were and what had happened. It was years before we knew what little we eventually learned. Then? They knew next to nothing. They did try to explain what they could but Uther couldn’t or wouldn’t believe that they were innocent. I tried to stop it but he wouldn’t listen just as he wouldn’t listen after Ygraine’s death. And then Morgana. _Oh Morgana._ She argued against Uther; stood up against him. There were vicious arguments. All the work they had put in to try to repair their relationship fell apart. Fell apart and deteriorated worse than it ever had been before. Gwen tried to back her, but while Uther rage never reached the same level against her as it did Morgana, he wouldn’t listen to her either.”

“Gwen…”

“Uther was extremely kind to Guinevere in many ways. For your sake he never treated her as he did Morgana. And when he found out about the baby I truly thought there was hope. That just possibly for the baby’s sake…but it wasn’t enough. He only turned the child into another person he could lose to magic. Another reason to continue his crusade. And Morgana couldn’t turn a blind eye to what was being done. … And then Uther ordered Iseldir’s execution.”

_“No!”_

“It had been three months and Uther knew no more than he did the day after you’d vanished. He claimed it would frighten the other prisoners, force them to talk. I don’t know. Perhaps at that point all he could truly feel anymore was hate. But Morgana couldn’t stand by and let it happen. So she tried to help them escape. But the security had been increased so much, and Uther had expected some such attempt. And so she failed. And Iseldir was executed. Uther was furious of course. And I don’t know what he would have done. Probably have her arrested as well. But she ran away instead. Everything Uther had done, to the druids, to Lancelot, but especially to Merlin…it was too much. Morgana is a very passionate woman. She feels deeply, strongly, and does nothing by halves.”

“I know…I told my father something similar once.”

“I wish he had listened. Instead Uther drove her to hate him. With the torture and with Iseldir’s execution…everything good in their relationship was lost. She was determined that Uther’s persecution of magic would end…and that she would save Merlin. She came to hate Uther as powerfully and as strongly as he hated magic, and she was not going to stand by and let a second purge of magic sweep through country nor wait for Merlin to follow Iseldir. She went to the druids, she found sorcerers and wizards and magic sympathizers; people who were already upset over the betrayal of Uther inviting druids to come to Camelot for peace talks, guaranteeing them safety, and then throwing them in the dungeon and executing them. Wild stories started spreading, theories that you were simply in hiding, giving Uther an excuse to seize the druid delegation. That Elaine and Ernald had been murdered by Camelot to facilitate this conspiracy. It was all mad. But the world was rapidly becoming a mad place.”

Arthur closed his eyes and nodded. Yes, suspicion and hate could so easily begat more suspicion and hate, until good men saw only shadows, demons, and lies. “And Morgana used that?”

“I don’t think she purposefully spread the lies. But she didn’t have to. Iseldir had been executed and Sybil had died from the treatment they’d received in the dungeons. People were angry, but more than that, people were scared of what Uther would do to _them_ once he was done with the druids in Camelot. So when Morgana began to recruit, people listened to her. She meant to stop Uther by force, save Merlin, and stop another purge. While back in Camelot, Uther sent off a large force to Shalott.”

“Elaine’s territory?”

“Yes. Uther had developed a theory that she might have taken you there. And then-” Gaius faltered. Arthur looked at him. He had once sat, and listened as a man had reported the horror of having his village sacked and burned by an invading army, and told the fate his family had endured. He knew the expression of a man reliving his worst nightmare over again. That was the expression on Gaius’s face now. Gaius took a deep breath and seemed to have to force himself to continue: “Eight months after you vanished: Uther ordered the executions of Lancelot, Relveer…and Merlin.”

Arthur could feel the rage building in him. Uther had ordered Merlin’s execution? He remembered the emotion that had taken hold of him when he had seen the image of his mother and she had told him of Uther and the price he had paid for an heir. He had thought he’d hated Uther then. He was becoming to realize he had not truly known the meaning of the word hate. Not if the emotion the hit him at Gaius’s words was any indication. His voice was ice and rock when he asked: “And were the executions carried out?”

“No .But there have been times when each of those men have wondered if it might not have been better if they had. With so large a force off, marching on Shalott, there were less men in the castle than when Morgana had attempted her rescue. I couldn’t let Merlin die. I couldn’t stand back and watch while- Merlin-“ Gaius buried his face in his hands. For a full minute he sat there. It was with a slow, exhausted voice that he continued: “I helped Merlin break out of his bonds, which allowed him to use his magic. He rescued the other two. They escaped the dungeons but the alarm was sounded. The castle was full enough of Uther’s men and they were cornered. Merlin, all of them, were weak from months in the dungeon and months of torture and harsh treatment. They couldn’t make their way out of the castle, they kept being pushed back, forced into retreat…they ended up going down, deeper and deeper under the castle, always on the back foot. The guards and knights kept driving them down, further and further under the castle…until they reached the dragon’s lair.”

_“The dragon?”_

“They were cornered. There was no other way out. And the dragon reminded Merlin of a promise to one day free him. He said if Merlin freed him now, he would save all three and fly them out of Camelot….Merlin chose to free him. I believe he chose it for Lancelot and Relveer’s sakes. For his own sake alone, I don’t think he would have done it. But they had been through so much together at that point. Endured so much. And I must admit: the dragon did keep his word. He saved them from certain death that night and he flew them out of Camelot and far away. He placed them down and then he flew back into the air…and returned to Camelot.”

“So it was the dragon that destroyed the city.”

“Not entirely. He weakened it. But then Morgana came at the head of an army of sorcerers and druids. Most of Camelot’s forces were still on its way to Shalott, Merlin and all the aid he could have given was stranded weeks away by foot, the defenses had been broken by the dragon. Camelot never stood a chance. It fell to Morgana’s forces in a day.”

Arthur’s head fell down into his hands again and he stared unseeingly at the dirt floor. _Morgana had done that_. And a treacherous thought came into his head: how much could he blame her? What would he have done in her position, with Merlin in the dungeons and his father careening towards another slaughter.

“I’m so sorry Arthur,” Gaius said, as gently as he could. “I’m so very sorry…but your father…”

“What?” Arthur looked up sharply.

“Your father died the night the druids and Morgana breached the castle.”

It had to stop. It all had to stop, he couldn’t take any more. _Uther…_ he felt pain as he heard the news, pain he hadn’t expected. He’d been furious a moment ago. He’d have sworn that he hadn’t cared anymore. But the pain that lacerated him at those words, gave proof to the lie.

But there was one glimmer of hope left, one possible ray of light in all this darkness.

 _“Gwen. What happened to Gwen?”_ Arthur pressed. “I need to know, Gaius.”

“She’s in the east in a town named Lyonesse, with all that remains of Camelot’s people.”

“Lyonesse.”

“Yes. Refugees from the war keep flocking there. Camelot itself has been long since destroyed but it remains a symbol of hope for many people.”

“The war? What war?”

“I am afraid the destruction of Camelot, and Morgana’s defeat of Uther, sent ripples throughout many kingdoms. Other lords and kings saw what the druids and sorcerers could do under her leadership and they were convinced she would come after their thrones next. War began. It was the dark times all over again. Kingdoms were torn apart.” Gaius shook his head, “The loss of life has been horrific.”

_“Morgana did all this?”_

“No,” said Gaius, “She simply started a chain of events which she could not control. Once the fighting started she could not leave the men and women who looked up to her as their leader. They sought her to bring them freedom from persecution. Without her they would have splintered and all that would have remained would be for them to be hunted and slaughtered. She has stood by them.”

“But twenty years? And this war is still raging? Surely someone has to have seen reason and pushed for peace?”

“It’s gotten more complicated recently. There have been some calls to end the war. Merlin has always pushed for it of course. And some of the magic users do listen to him. But never enough. Morgana tried to convince him to join her of course. But he wouldn’t. Not after what was done to Camelot. And he has always maintained that you had a destiny, and therefore you would return. He would have waited here for you himself, but he was needed elsewhere. And so I have stayed: waiting for you. Hoping one day that you would return and I could send you to him.”

“Is he with Gwen?”

“Sometimes. He has always striven to restore peace and to protect innocent lives where he could. Sometimes that has taken him away from her side. He has helped her when needed; but so many need him now. None of this has been easy for him…but he has also done what he can to help. As he has ever done.” There was a note of pride in Gaius’s voice.

“You said things were more complicated now. What did you mean by that?”

“Two years ago, we got very close to peace. All sides were exhausted and people began, at long last, to listen to reason. It was thanks to Merlin that they got so close to peace as they did. But a new druid rose up. A man named Mordred.”

Arthur gave a jerk of recognition. _“Mordred?”_

“Yes. Does that name mean something to you?”

“I don’t know if it’s the same one but… it must be. Merlin, Morgana, and I saved a druid boy by that name. You must remember: my father was going to execute him. We helped him to escape.”

“Then,” said Gaius, very gravely. “You should have left him to die.”

“Gaius! He was just a boy.”

“I am sorry. But I have seen what he has become as a man. He is a strong leader and relentless. He would not let Morgana pursue the peace and made sure that no druid or sorcerer would agree to it, and without them no other country would sign either. He instilled in his army a desire to create a kingdom of magic that all others would fear. He has made magic become what Uther always feared, and he took Morgana’s place as the leader of its army. She is still there as a second in command, but it is in name only. Mordred leads. When she was their leader they fought for survival. But Mordred, he fights to conquer. And he has proven amazingly effective. Time is running out I’m afraid.”

“For whom?”

“For any lands not yet under Mordred’s control. And for Lyonesse. I have heard rumors that Mordred is preparing to march on it next, and wipe out the very last remnant of Camelot. And I doubt, even with Merlin at her side, that Guinevere will be able to withstand him.”

“ _Gwen_ withstand him?”

“Gwen was crowned Queen.”

“Queen?” Arthur stared off in the distance, and a little smile played across his lips. “That’s the first good news you’ve had to give me.”

Gaius gave a small, weak chuckle. “She _has_ proved a remarkable leader. When Camelot was destroyed, the survivors fled into the woods. The dragon hunted them, burning the trees behind. There were few knights left, Uther was dead, you were gone, Merlin miles away. There was no obvious leader. But she was the last tie to the Pendragons. However even without that, I think the people would have turned to her strength, for she stepped up and she took care of them. Everything she had lost, and she still had the strength to rule. It is thanks to her any of them survived at all.”

Arthur knew the answer to the next question before he even asked it. It was all too clear from Gaius’s words. “The last tie to the Pendragons. So our child…”

“Was lost.” Gaius reached out and clasped Arthur’s hand. “She died when the dragon first attacked the castle.”

It wasn’t fair, thought Arthur, his heart numb. He’d lost his child before he’d even gotten to know her. A daughter. He’d hoped for a daughter. And she was gone. Taken along with everything else that had been dear to him. Everything but Gwen. She was alive. She was all he had left. And he ached for her.

“Eventually the dragon tired of picking the survivors off and flew away; probably content in the knowledge that they were now out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by nothing but destruction as winter was falling and they had few supplies. But Guinevere kept the people together and kept them going. Eventually Merlin and the others were able to track them down. That’s how they ended up in Lyonesse. It’s to the east, and is in the center of the territory where Relveer’s druids were based. It was a very old town, but had good defenses, and the need for a fortified base was recognized. Guinevere does not rule entirely alone. She and Relveer share power. It is this reason that Lyonesse attracts refugees from both side of the war, and the pair present a united front: magic and non-magic, ruling together, looking after people from both sides, together.”

“Then I have to go to Lyonesse. _I need Gwen._ ”

“Yes. Merlin said I was to send you there if you returned… and if it still stood. And stand it does.” Gaius seemed to hesitate as he looked at Arthur doubtfully. “But you must remember: it has been twenty years Arthur…you cannot expect to find things…the same.”

“I think I realized that when I awoke to find Camelot in ruins and my father dead.” It came out far harsher than he’d intended.

“That was not what I was referring too,” said Gaius gently. “Go to Guinevere: but know it may not be easy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As just...a general note, and full confession, I actually haven't seen the entirety of Merlin. Soooo it's possible this description/version of Mordred doesn't make *any* sense in canon-Merlin. If not, then handwave it away as best you can with the knowledge that this is a very different timeline.


End file.
